


Barbarians Healer

by CousinNick



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vikings, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-06 11:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CousinNick/pseuds/CousinNick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After he is taken prisoner to the Land of the Swedes, Tino soon becomes the healer of the Swedish leaders son Peter, who has fallen ill. Tino begins to fall for the handsome and gentle Barbarian Viking leader and wonders if romance can bloom on the battle field? Rated M.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Land of the Lions

This story contains violence, and bloody themes but it will have happy-fun-sex-time and romantic love too! ;D I do not own Hetalia, if I did, Berwald would be naked all~ the time!  
ALSO NOTHING IN THIS FANFIC IS HISTORICALLY ACCURATE! Enjoy!

...

Tino screamed. Scrambling over the corpses of the village's men he felt his stomach churn painfully as his feet barely trampled upon the smashed skull of a Finnish man's head. He cringed as he stumbled on. He couldn't be captured. He had to live on and wait out the night when the Dane's left the shores of his homeland.* Only then could he wander outside and treat the wounded. He shuddered. That is, if there would be anyone still left alive after the raid.

The Danes had docked near the ports along Helsinki, leaving barely an hours time for the Finn's to get ready for battle.* The small fishing village had been caught off guard and they paid dearly for it. There was word that an attack might occur, but barely any of the villagers paid heed to it. Tino felt the pit of his stomach turn. They should have taken the warning signs...

Tino, who had been along the flaxen fields, drying the sour smelling grass for clothing, had heard the battle horns blare against the bright jewel blue sky. In that moment, when the sound of the horns clouded across the trees, he dropped everything and ran.

Now it seemed the battle was over, as Tino witnessed the hated vibrant black of the ravened flag whip-lashing across the once peaceful sky of Finland.* Tino gritted his teeth. Clumsily trotting down the small rolling hills he came to a frightening scene. Perched on a few carts loaded with stolen goods was the one person Tino hated more than anyone. The damned Dane's leader, Mathias. Tino furrowed his brows as he steadied his shaking legs.

Last spring Tino had the great misfortune of making Mathias acquaintance. The Danish vikings had just raided their already poor city capital, and were making off with the cities few treasure's when the Dane had spotted Tino and his cousin's Nikolas and Björt in the crowds of captives. The tall flaxen haired Dane had stooped down to the kneeling cousins and smiled brightly at them.

"Come with me, or die." The Dane had smirked, producing a two handed Danish axe, the blade slantingly sharp. Neither Nikolas nor Tino budged, Björt winning and throwing a fuss in his blankets. This made the Dane irritable, and he yanked Nikolas up by the collar of his tunic, his teeth bared and dogmatic.

"Are ya deft?" he barked at the Norsemen, but Nikolas did not answer, only held his little brother tighter in his arms, his eyes as emotionless as ever. The Dane snarled, and with a quick tug, he had hoisted Nikolas on his shoulder and stomped away, yelling something at his warriors to disperse. Nikolas had yelled and cried with fright, kicking and screaming, the babe in his arms sobbing loudly. Tino had shouted after him, clawing through the crowds of people who were being pushed back by the Danish vikings swords. But before he could get to his cousins, Tino already saw the mass of blond haired men pushing their dragon headed ships southward. The little Finn was left standing in the bright blossoming fields of flowers and blood.

Tino shuddered. It was all happening again. Those white and red sails, warning of the white of sun bleached bones and the onslaught of red blood, it was enough to make a grown man weep. But Tino would not cower. After his remaining family had been abducted he had done his very best to follow his cousin's line of work, becoming a healer to the village like Nikolas. But now Tino was sure that Nikolas was dead. The young Finn of nineteen winters wanted revenge, and he wanted it now. So, storming down the grassy knoll that led to the outskirts of the flax field and the cattle paddock's, Tino quietly slid through the back gates of the village.

Hiding behind a few hay stacks that had been piled outside of a black smith's shop, Tino ground his teeth with disgust. There was the Dane, his tunic stained red with blood, his rough fingers twiddling with the sinew string wrapped around the monstrous handle of his axe. The very axe that threatened Tino a year before. Suddenly all the anger, all the hurt, and all the loneliness crashed down on the Finn and he shouted with fire in his breath and iron in his heart. He lunged out from behind the straw and flung himself at the Dane, whose eyes widened with surprise.

In an instant, Tino was thrown over his enemies shoulder and shoved into the dirt. He groaned with pain, mildly aware that his left arm had been forcibly extended upward, his heaving chest crushing the other arm. He ground his teeth together.

"Well, well, well. Feisty little pup, ain't ya'?" That sickeningly obnoxious voice violated Tino's ears. He cringed.

"Looks like this little traitor was stupid enough to come out of his little hiding spot." The tall Danish man grinned to his companion, another Danish warrior.

"I'm not a traitor! You are the ones who are the traitors! You murderer's!" Tino screamed. Mathias sneered.

"Not too smart are ya' kid?" Mathias asked. Tino didn't feel obliged to answer. Instead he held his head as high as it would go, his neck aching.

"You killed my family, you bastard!" Tino snarled. His throat ached and his left arm had gone numb from the Danes brute strength.

"I've killed a lot of families over the years-refresh my memory." Mathias let a vicious smile crawl over his lips.

"My two cousin's, Nikolas and Björt." Tino stared into the Dane's face with pure hatred.

But, instead of the Dane laughing in his face as he was sure he would have, Tino was pulled up and steadied. Mathias had a lazy grin stretched on his face, and his strong arms balanced on his hips.

"I know who you're talking about lad. I know very well." He mused.

"Don't call me lad!" the little Finnish man spit. "My names Tino, you damn bastard!"

Mathias smiled gravely before he made a hand gesture behind him, and in a matter of seconds a few men had rounded around Tino's back and had flung a mass of dried rope and leather throngs around his body. Tino's eyes widened and he cursed, wriggling and biting at the hands of the Danish soldiers. But it was too late. He was thrown into the chest of Mathias harshly, his arms abound behind his back, legs tied at the ankles. He was going to die.

Mathias held him up by the collar, the Finns eyes bright and blazing, like an arrow caught on fire in the heat of battle.

"I know where your cousin's are. They're in good hands boy. I'll take ya' to see 'em if ya' like. Though you'll owe me a favor in return." The Dane mused, his mouth pulled up into a grin.

"I would rather die than to be indebted to a viking."* Tino breathed out with spite. The Dane frowned before flinging him over his shoulder.

"Too bad for you. I was hoping you would go without a fuss." And with that Tino was clubbed over the head with something hard and solid and his head hung low, his eyes rolling back into hsi skull. He could hear the rumbling of the Danish mans laughter, and then all was silent.

...

Tino awoke to the annoying squawking of gulls and the smell of salt water. He opened his eyes, wiping the sleep and puffiness from them. He yawned loudly before sitting up on something solid. Turning his head cautiously, he looked to see that he was laying across a makeshift hammock, the woven material acting as a soft cushion for Tinos body. Tino groaned and rolled his head back. The back of his head felt sore, and as he placed his hands to his scalp he pulled back and winced.

Brown and flaking blood had dried against his baby fine hair, leaving his locks clumped and dirty. He felt his gut churn painfully into the first inkling of fear.

He had been captured. After he had been forcibly knocked out, he supposed Mathias had loaded him onto the Danes ship. Tino stretched upwards and looked out the small hatched window to see the rolling and thunderous waves of the ocean sprawled out before him. Tinos eyes widened.

The sea looked absolutely terrifying, like it would just roll up lazily and smash Tino where he stood. The undoubtedly shilling waters were a grave sight for many viking ships, and whose to say the one Tino was boarded on would not sink? This frightening thought left goosebumps on his slowly cooling flesh.

Feeling like he was about to faint from exhaustion and fright, Tino hurriedly escaped the confines of the small wooden box like cabin that was his cell and quickly tramped upstairs.

Once against the hot breath of the sun, he sighed heavily into the tangible air. That was, until he saw all the unfamiliar and dangerous looking faces on board.

Men. A hundred of them or more looked at Tino like he was a small rabbit caught into a hunters snare. All hungry eyed, jaws slack, teeth brutishly yellow and dogmatic. Tino stepped back.

One of the Danish sailors quickly advanced on Tino and wrapped his arms around the Finns stomach. He pulled the Finn to his chest and sneered. Tino screamed and thrashed, yelling every Finnish swear word in the book.

"Hey! This ones under my protection! He's to be a peace offering for the Leader of the Norther Lions Tribe! Anyone that touches him picks a fight with me and the Swedes!"* Mathias's cruel voice shook over Tino's ears. In an instant the foul Danish hand that had held him capture grew rigid before setting him free. Tino trotted away blindly before breathing heavily. He needed air. Oh how he needed air.

He closed his eyes tight before looking back up to Mathias. A sly grin on his face.

The Danish leader held his arms wide and shoved them sky ward, a backdrop of cliff shards and verdant land invaded Tino's eye sight. He gasped at the sheer size of the looming cliffs.

"Welcome Tino! To the land of the Swedes!" He cackled. Tino's blood ran cold.

...

Tino was thrown onto the back of a pile of clean blankets and smocks. After the boat had been docked and all the Danish soldiers and sailors had dismounted the huge vessel, Mathias had ordered that Tino was to be dressed and cleaned up quickly in one of the cabins. Tino had protested greatly, until Mathias had threatened to club him again in the back of the head. After that, Tino cooperated.

A few minutes later and Tino's dank and bloodied clothing was discarded and placed on a heap in the floor, the cabin boy helping him to slip into a powered blue tunic that complimented his violet eyes. Along with tanned breaches and a flaxen blue cloak wrapped tightly around his shoulders by a broach of abalone, Tino was allowed to go outside. There he was escorted down the huge and towering serpentine boat by a row of rough looking men, all with threatening glares.

Tino tugged his hands away more than twice when a few of the new and strangely tall men offered to help him off the boat. Tino would not take their kindness, he was much too stubborn and pissed off at the moment. And scared. Very scared. But he would swallow his fears and endure. Mathias had kept him alive and brought him here to the land of the Lions for a reason. One he hoped that did not involve his head on a silver platter.

But Tino wanted answers. Why had he been spared? Why had he been dragged through sea and rock and foam to the Island of the Swedes? Tino had only heard in tales and lore of the Swedish warriors strength and brutality. They were almost as frighting and dogmatic as the Danes. Almost.

Tino upturned his eyes to see that along all the row of soldiers he was being barricaded by, small jolts of curious stares and murmurers greeted him from the native folk. Tino walked through the twists and turns of a small village, though it seemed to be only temporarily built, as the small huts of hide and tanned skins were connected by thin sinew ropes and shoddy willow branches. Tino gazed on, puzzlement breaching his features.

Why would he have been brought here, all the way to this tribe of Swedish vikings, when Mathias could have easily just killed him where he stood? Tino frowned deeply. Perhaps the Dane was more stupid than he looked.

Tino bit the inside of his lip and trotted along, a few soldiers nudging his elbow to make him walk faster. He was about to yell at one who had struck his shoulder in an attempt to keep him moving when he felt a thin piece of cord wrap around his waist. Tino's eyes widened before he turned around to see Mathias, his grin ever apparent, the end of a brightly decorated leather cord wrapped in his fists. The leather was jeweled with bright amber and the color of deep amethyst that matched his eyes.

Tino glared at him. "Speak Viking. Why have you brought me here?" Tino growled. He was a man damnit, and he was going to act like it. He pushed and pulled at the extension of leather.

Mathias just laughed and pulled on the leash tighter. "As you know, little Tino, the Danes and the Swedes often fight constantly."

Tino ground his teeth at the 'little' part, but nodded curtly.

"Well, it seems that now they both have a common enemy. The Russians." Mathias's grin looked completely wild as he looked ahead of them.

"The damn Russian's have been edging on our territory, first in parts of Sweden and now Denmark. They have been attacking our settlements all along the North and South and have burned many of our towns to the ground. Its unacceptable." He growled out.

Tino looked quizzically at him. He could feel the towns people around him fixing their eyes on him. It made Tino shiver. Why was he getting all this attention? Did he look so foreign to them? Was it his small size? Or maybe his eyes? Tino bit his lip. He was beginning to start to wish for death. He knew what the Swedes were capable of, heard stories of their cruelties to their neighboring countries. Tino had no sudden urge to be under the mercy of a Swedish viking, and he hoped he never would.

"So, the Swedish leader of the Northern Lions Tribe and I made a deal. We would both hold our fighting of each other in order to exterminate the Russian invaders." Mathias smiled brightly.

Tino bit his lip, afraid to ask the question that was pestering and fluttering in his mind.

"So...Why am I here? Why did you not kill me? You mentioned something about me being a peace offering. Am I to be a slave?" Tino muttered, his voices still ringing with bitterness. Mathias chuckled.

"Those questions will soon be answered, but first, I think you will like to see the surprise I have for you." With that, Mathias un-clipped the leather lead rope from Tino's body and pushed Tino into a clump of brownish thronged tarps.

Tino yelped quickly before landing flat on his face on the straw covered floor of the musty hut. He winced and rubbed his sore head. He blinked a few times before he lifted his head, and when he did, he felt his jaw drop and his eye begin to water.

Sitting, just as wide eyed, was a lithe and startled looking Nikolas. Tino and Nikolas stared at each other with bewilderment for a good three seconds before Tino cried out.

"Cousin!" He yelped, crawling to the arms of his now baffled and crying cousin. Nikolas wrapped his arms tightly around the small frame of the Finn before spasmodically kissing his brow and the top of his head. The two cousins let out shuttering sobs before Nikolas's voice finally regained composure.

"Tino, my dear cousin! Why are you here? Is this a vision? A cruel joke? Or are you really in my arms?" Nikolas's voice was hoarse from crying. Tino sniffed and sat up, looking his cousin dead in the eye. The eyes of his friend and kin that he was so sure he had lost a year ago. It was like a dream.

"I am here cousin, and I will do everything in my power to save you from the vikings and this horrible place!" Tino's voice shook with determination as he held his cousins hands. He looked into his cousin's eyes and saw something shift in those neutral orbs.

"I cannot Tino, I am needed here." The words stung the Finn right through the heart. Tino starred at him with disbelief. Nikolas's eyes grew neutral, like the slowly setting sun as winter holds it in its clutches.

"Wh...What?" Tino asked, his voice choking. Did he just hear correctly?

"I'm sorry Tino, but, this past year has changed me. I thought the vikings were ruthless and cruel, but they are just another tribe, like our own at home, trying to survive."

Tino dropped his jaw low to the floor. "What? Do you even know what you're saying? They slaughtered our village!" Tino's voice was shattered with anger and frustration. He grabbed Nikolas's tunic by the fists, noticing with annoyance that it was made by the wool of the thick and sturdy Danish and Swedish breeds. Well, he had certainly gotten cozy with the invaders.

Nikolas frowned deeply. He seemed torn emotionally, but finally he spoke, low and warning.

"You're wrong Tino. They attacked for good reason." Nikolas stared at his cousin dead in the face. Tino sat their baffled, the tears slowly drying from his now heated face.

"How could thier killing be justified?" He whispered harsly, noticing Björt sleeping in a small crib beside a bigger four poster bed, one that Tino was sure Nikolas shared with Mathias. He scowled with disgust.

"Tino... Some of the men and women in our village were traitors. They had been working with the Russians to over thrown our city capital. Why do you think the Danes would even travel so far to the confines of Helsinki? They feared another tribe of Russian's would claim the city, extending their territories through the Nordic countries. Mathias was just... making sure the city never toppled. He is an idiot, but he has a good heart."

"By killing people? He's a monster!" Tino was on the verge of tears again. Nikolas sighed and shook him with his hands very lightly.

"Tino! Tino, listen! They were traitors! Why do you think only a few men and women were killed? The rest of us were spared... The Danish only killed the people working under the Russians. The Slavic's would have attacked the village by the end of the month had it not been for Mathias's crew. " Nikolas breathed out harshly. But Tino would have none of it. Tino knew that it had taken Nikolas a long time to figure out and piece this information together and form his reasons based on his emotions. He had a year to resolve his hate of the vikings. Tino had only a few minutes to make his judgement of them.

Nikolas sat up wearily and walked to a small wooden crib lined with rabbits furs and woolen swatches. Tino crawled over to the crib and watched as Nikolas wrapped the sleeping Björt up closer in the hides. The babe must be no older than four years. Tino's face shifted to heated concern. If what Nikolas told him was true, then Mathias, no matter how cruel, was perhaps saving the viliage from a more horrible fate the Danish vikings. But still, it should not have been resorted to murder.

"This settlement is no place to raise a baby Nikolas, no matter how much sympathy you have for these murderous barbarians." Tino's voice was bitter, cold. He could not believe his cousin would think about even staying here. Tino could hardly stand staying here for another minute.

"Thats just it Tino. I'm safe here. Mathias has given Björt an education and me a home. I am a valued person in this tribe, I am the only healer in the area for miles. I have great power and I am respected. Plus, I am in love..." Nikolas looked back to the Finn. His face lined with a small scent of doubt.

"Love?" Tino squeaked. He scrunched up his face and snarled.

"With who?" He whispered harshly, minding the sleeping babe.

Nikolas shifted his gaze and bit his lip. "It is hard to believe myself, but I've fallen for the brutish Dane... He may be of of the most stupidest, foolish, idiotic, perverted, and insane man that I have ever met... But he cares for me."

"You mean Mathias?" Tino gawked, his face boiling.

Nikolas nodded, his face neutral, blank. Tinos eyes riveted on the verge of insanity.

"After hes proved himself to be a murderer! Nikolas..." Tino began but was cut off. A shift and slither of the thick and heavy tarps were drawn away and Mathias stood in the shaded area of the opening. Tino frowned deeply. He was not in a happy Finnish-go-lucky mood. He was pissed off and damn if he was going to try to hide it.

"Sorry to cut the reunion short Norge, but I need Tino for a moment." Mathias grinned a great and big boyish smile. Nikolas's eyes widened.

"Mathias, I don't think this is a good idea anymore. Tino is here now, I don't want him to be put into anymore danger..." Nikolas sat up and walked over to the Dane, his tunic shifting, robes dragging against the hay filled floor.

"Norge, we had a deal."

"Screw the deal Mathias. Tino isn't strong enough for this! I don't care if you want him as a peace offering! Hes a human being and I will not have him be bound down by someone else's will!" Nikolas shouted. A wail was heard and Björt began to stir from the confines of his crib. Nikolas gave out a frustrated breath before collecting the babe in his arms and hushing him. Tino started to the two adults, confusion plastered on his face like an ugly scar.

"Tino will be fine. He'll work as your assistant healer for the two tribes. Berwald will treat him well..." Mathias reasoned, holding Nikolas's forearms gently. Tino looked taken aback. He was so sure that the Dane didn't have a gentle bone in his body. Perhaps looks could be deceiving.

Nikolas stared long and hard at the Dane, annoyance painting his features like a wonderfully dull tapestry.

"No. I trust Berwald but I don't think this will be good for Tino."

"Nikolas, whats going on..." Tino breathed, looking to his cousin who would not meet his eyes. The Norsemen frowned and kept his face blank.

"The leader to the Northern tribe's son is sick Tino. I am only one healer. I need another one to look after the boy while I tend to the wounded soldiers. I knew you had been practicing the art of medicine so I thought I should bring you here to help look after the boy. I thought you could help look after the leaders sick son...I missed you so much, and I did not want you to lead your life thinking that I was dead...I begged Mathias to bring you back to me, but he had to ask the permission of the Northern Tribes leader..." Nikolas swallowed hard.

"The Swedish leader agreed to finance your trip here and to let you try to heal his son as my assistant, but at a price... I'm sorry Tino, but I couldn't bare to know that you were all alone on that small sea port! I'm sorry!" Nikolas's characteristiclly blank face smashed into a thousand pieces and he clung to Björts small frame. But Nikolas's face still was a bit hardened. He was afraid of something, but he would not show his fear fully.

The baby wailed and twisted in his brothers arms. Nikolas did nothing to soothe the baby's stubborn protests.

"What was the price Nikolas?" Tino's voice was shaking. Mathias gripped his arm tightly, dragging him through the tarp.

"What was the price Nikolas!" Tino screamed as he was dragged out the hut and onto the lush green grasses that had been stamped out by the feet of war ponies. Tino felt his heart beating wildly in his chest. Mathias kept tugging at his arm.

"I'm sorry Tino, but it was either this or you be killed by the Russian vikings when they invaded!" Nikolas whispered to himself as he watched his cousin being dragged to one of the more grander and fashionable huts.

Tino kicked and screamed with all his might, causing quite a scene.

"Let go of me! Perkele!" Tino twisted and fought, trying to wriggle out of Mathias's strong grip.*

"Calm down, I'm just taking ya' to see the little sick brat! Ya have ta' cure him, remember? Your knowledge of illnesses is important to the connected tribes. If the Swede's leader's son dies, then my end of the bargain is ruined. I need you to keep the damned child alive to keep the peace between the Danes and the Swedes. If the kid dies, the rest of us go to war with the lions tribes, and these Swedes are some sick fucks at war." Mathias said, his sharp teeth gleaming, his red woolen coat wrapping around him in the breeze.

Tino growled. Under normal circumstances he would have been quite cheery and pleasant. He would have been happy to help a sick or injured child. But not now, not when he was had no real idea what was going on. Damn the Danes and damn the Swedes!

As Tino kept struggling the Swedish and few Danish people began to take notice. Almost at once all of the blue and sharp green eyes of the Swedes were on him, with questioning looks, some even giggling or chuckling. Tino did not find this amusing. Not one bit.

He fought wildly and fiercely, like a trapped trout in a net, its silvery body flaunting and twisting. Tino would not give up without a fight.

But all to soon he was pushed, faced to face in front of the confines of another tent, this time one larger and of a richer brown hide, probably deer. The inklings of faded branded spirals and wisps of banners cascaded and whip lashed against the high peeked tent. Tino swallowed hard. A huge shield was crested over the front of the tent, its colors dark and out stretched. A huge roaring lion with fierce blue eyes stared into Tino's soul. He bit his lip.

Mathias smirked before hastily pushing Tino through the leather flaps, the little Finn stumbling in the process. He gave a startled yelp before landing face first in the hay scattered room. Mathias laughed abruptly.

Once he lifted his head he could see that he was in the room of someone of great importance. Stretched on the walls of the tarps were glorious flags of battle, each with crown wearing lions, drawn in bright yellow paint and the most richest of blues Tino had ever seen. To the left of the hut was a low set wooden table, stuffed to the brim with little flasks and bottles, bundles of herbs and flowers and a small mortar and pestle. Tino recognized it as a medical table. A small smoldering stump of a candle was poised near a iron cauldron. He began to grow curious.

As his eyes scanned to the middle of the hut he could see a big four poster bed that seemed to be empty, the furs and blankets strewn messily, as if the sleeper hadn't gotten a good nights rest. But...on closer inspection, Tino could see a small mass of blankets that were bundled up tight. A mess of dirty blonde hair peeked up from the small head, two incredibly bushy eyebrows to complete the child's face. Then Tino saw him...

There was a man, but not just any man. A crouched figure who looked to be taller than Tino and maybe even Mathias. Tino held his breath.

The crouched man was clinging to the hand of the small boy wrapped up in a mound of blankets. The mans eyes were close tight and his mouth was clenched, as if he was praying something to the Gods. Tino felt this throat grow dry. The mans clothes were dirty and a bit scuffled, but still in pristine condition, with rich golds and vibrant blues. This was a man of great importance.

"Hey, Berwald. I got that surprise I promised ya'!" Mathias chucked and nudged Tino up with his arms. Tino ground his teeth, trying to wiggle free from the Danes grip.

"'m not 'n tha' mood t' pl'y g'mes..." The harsh and rough voice of the man softly pressed into Tino ears, and the Finn couldn't help but shiver...Wait... Shiver? Tino's eyes widened.

"Come on! I promised ya' something good, didn't I? Its the new healer, Nikolas's cousin. The one I brought back from Helsinki to save yer' little Peter..."

At the mention of 'little Peter', the man looked up, eyes slowly sliding open. Tino gasped.

Those eyes looked to be like those of a wild Siberian Tiger. The sea green orbs were startlingly bright and glaring against the mans pale bone colored face. The eyes, like crystalline daggers, looked to be melting in with Tino's very soul and he shivered. This man was dangerous.

"hmm..." He let out a low rumbled that made Tino jump and squeak in an unmanly manner. Scared? Who, him?

"Well, don't just stand there! Take a look at the peace offering I'm giving you! Apparently he's an educated healer. I thought he could help yer son!" Mathias smiled brightly, a grin gracing his lips. Tino threw a glare at him before noticing that the brutishly tall man with the sharp flaxen colored hair had indeed stood up and was walking towards Tino. He swallowed hard.

Perhaps it was the fact that he was as tall as an ash tree, or maybe that his eyes to be like a roaring ocean after a destructive storm, but the man did look handsome, in a barbaric sort of way. His height was intimidating, but the way he walked was quiet, almost humbling, and his high set features and chiseled jaw only heightened the naturally rugged good looks he had. Plus, his evident muscles and strong looking chest were a nice feature to look at...Tino felt his face heat up. This man was gorgeous.

But...Tino was also more than certain that this man was an enemy. This thought helped Tino keep the raging red blush from his pale little face, and the rigid sensation that was building up in his pants, cool down.

The man, Berwald-as Mathias called him, finally stood in front of Tino and starred. Just stared. This made Tino blink a few times before he finally found his voice.

"Is that your son?" He asked quietly. Berwald raised his eyebrows before turning his powerfully built body behind him. Tino bit his lip with fright. So much for Mr. Macho Finn.

"Hmmmm..." Tino took that as a 'yes'.

"'s been s'ck fer' the p'st week..." Berwald's voice sounded tired and worn, like he had been sitting up all night in hopes that his son's illness would evaporate into thin air. It made Tino feel a bit better about the man.

Tino bit his lip but slowly and hesitantly walked over to were the wheezing and sleepy looking boy lay. Tino knelt by the big bushy brow child who looked no more than seven years of age. The child's face was as pale as a fishes belly, and skin just as cold. But he seemed to be sweating like an ox that had been attached to a yolk for days. Tino did not like the look of this child's health. It would take more than a good nights sleep to make him well again.

"Has he eaten anything strange in the past day? Or played outside when it was raining?" Tino asked quietly. He dug underneath the blankets and furs and produced the child's chilled hand. He lightly squeezed it, searching for the pulse. It was faint, but there just the same. The child sniffled, his nose a cheery red.

"'s been eat'n allr'ght...meat n' b'ead m'stly... A bit'a soup... He pl'yed in ta' rain a bit l'st week..." Berwald answered, his eyes fixed on Tino like he was some exotic creature. Tino lowered his gaze, his blush back in place.

"Keep him in doors, and close the tarps at all times during the night to keep in the warm air, but opened slightly at day for the fresh breeze. For the next few days I'll give him a sleeping draught to help him get more sleep, also, no more bread. Just some meat broth with some soft vegetables. Chicken or rabbit would be best, no carrots in the broth." Tino muttered off other bits and pieces of remedies and medicine, counting them off of his petite little hand. Berwald listening intently.

"So, I take it then your going to look after him?" Mathias grinned, leaning against a oaken chair, a plated skin of a reindeer laid lazily atop it.

Tino bit his lip. He could stay here with Nikolas and test the waters with the barbarians. Or... he could get his skull split open by the Russians back home...Tino sighed.

"Yes, I will stay. But you must do everything I say, or else I fear this child will not live to see another winter." Tino sat up and moved away from the bed.

"I'll do everything I can to help your son." Tino stared at Berwald, trying his best to not meet his eyes, but a small smile graced the Finns face.

"Nnnn... Th'nk ya."

"See Berwald! I did good right? I hope you enjoy your present, hes quite a little spitfire this one! I suppose this means the peace offering between the Danes and Swede's is solid?" Mathias grinned wildly.

"What is this I keep hearing about a peace treaty?" Tino finally whispered harshly.

"Like I said, Danes and Swedes are not great friends. So, we each gave each other something along the lines of a gift of piece. Berwald gave me the use of his war ponies for my troops, and as much of his forests timbers and I gave him you." Mathias grinned cheekily, pushing Tino into the chest of Berwald with one quick swipe.

Tino squeaked loudly, pushing against the solid and oh-so-nicely-built chest in front of him. The little Finn did his best to back away from the taller Swede, but a muscular arm held him in place.

"Nnnn...Ja M'th'as. I acc'pt yur p'ace offerin'. He'll m'ke a good w'fe..." Berwald muttered, looking down at the now wide eyed Finn.

Tino's jaw dropped, as an eloquent "Eh?" peeked out from those pink little lips.

"Tino, your payment for the trip here was gracelessly financed by Berwald. So, in return he wished that you become his bride. I hope you have fun with your new husband! Take care of him Berwald, he sure is fragile." Mathias cackled before leisurely exiting the tarp hut. leaving Tino to stutter against a well toned chest, solid arms holding him in place gently.

"W'lc'me m' w'fe, ta' your new h'me..." Berwald's glare faded and instead became a softened smile. Tino stared into those greenish river stone colored eyes and did the first thing that came to mind. He Screamed.

"OYAHHHHHH!"

...


	2. Damen Lejon

Hey Guys! I'm going to be leaving in a week or two to a place with limited internet access, so I have no clue when chapters for these stories will come in. Hopefully I will Finnish a few more chapters for each story so be on the look out! I DO NOT OWN HETALIA! If I did Sweden would be naked all the time! REVIEW OR HANA-TAMAGO WILL EAT MAH FACE! Thank you to MalinChan and yotzie for being my Swedish/Finnish translators! Much love you you guys!

...

Tino's eyes widened and his throat felt like it was on fire. After screaming his little head off, he heard a gruff moan fill the astonished silence of the grand hut. He whirled his head around with enough speed to put a frightened deer to shame. Hands still pressed against the solid and rugged body of the Swede, his face tightened when he saw what had made the pitiful voice.

The little boy, the Swede's son, had woken up from Tino's shameless screaming, and was now shuffling under the blankets, his matted hair stuck with sweat to his face, his lips chapped and parted, a fine line of red dusting his cheeks. This child was one of the sickest Tino had ever saw, and he felt the over powering need to save him, his fright be damned.

The tall Swedish man that Tino found out was named Berwald slowly recoiled his grip and let Tino stumbled over to the edge of the sick child's bed. Tino blushed furiously before backing away without looking too awkward and afraid. He failed miserably. He turned back to Berwald and did his best to give a disapproving stare, or a growl, anything to let the Swedish man know that Tino would not be the Bride of any viking! But...that stare, the sharp glassy glare of green and sea sent shivers down Tino's spine and reduced him to a sheepish impish little Finnish boy who quickly turned away to stare back at the clumps of piled furs and blankets.

Doing his best to navigate himself through the bed, empty bottles of herbs and bowls of crushed roots scattered against the floor, he finally made it to the bed and sat down on the edge of it. He lightly pulled back the covers and was delighted to find that the child's eyes were open, though a bit watery and shiny. As least he had not passed out.

"Hello..." Tino cooed softly. He peeled back the dull colors of the deer pelts and bright spun wool blankets, unearthing the top half of the little boy. The small and thin body was wearing a snow white chemise with trims and stitches of blue that came together in a small bow. It was very cute and it made Tino smile softly.

The boy blinked a few times before setting his watered gaze on Tino. The boy craned his neck up and Tino diligently helped him to sit up, calling Berwald over to pile the pillows filled with hay underneath the boys head and neck for better support. Berwald nodded and, his stern glare crumbling back to his face, did as he was told, balancing folded fox pelts and homemade stitched pillows of flax against the now coughing boy. Tino, soft and caring smile still in place, wiped the sweaty and clumped hair away from the boys forehead, allowing the boy better sight.

He would not allow himself to get too close to Berwald, for he was afraid. Not afraid of the stern glare, or the Swedes strongly built body, nor fear of how cruel Berwald could turn out to be. No. He was afraid of getting swept up. Swept up by this new emotion brewing in his stomach, and up his chest to nestle in his heart. He didn't know what it was or how to even name it, but it was there just the same. And Tino had no clue what to do with it. All he knew was that he would not be a wife. He just wouldn't.

"Mathais..." Tino breathed, his voice dull, but with still the edges of spite, violated the silence. Mathias craned his neck upward, his shit eating grin still in place. His eyes sparkled.

"What can I do for ya', Prinsessan?"* Mathias chuckled darkly. Berwald snapped head back to glare deeply at the tall Danish man, but Mathias just laughed more.

Tino ground his teeth together before taking a deep breath. He was in the presence of a sick child, he would be damned if some Dumbass Danish man was going to cause him to lash out.

"Get me some hot water, clean wash rags, some clean bowls, lye soap if you have any, and a knife." Tino said through gritted teeth. He kept his eyes trained on the child whose bushy brows were knotted in a pout. The child's feeble hands wiped against his nose and he sniffled irritably. Tino sighed and patted his head once more.

"Sure thing, Prinsessan! But whats the knife for? Ya' gonna operate on the brat or somethin'?" Mathias barked with joyous laughter. Berwalds face flashed fear for a second but Tino's irritated face melted it away. Mathias was about to pushed the leather tarps of the hut when Tino spoke.

"The knife is for you, if you insist on keep calling me 'Prinsessan.'" Tino muttered. Berwald raised his eyebrows, his face bewildered. Mathias's face blanked with astonishment before a chuckle graced his devilish lips again. He smiled widely before nodding off to Tino.

"Got it, no more Princessan..." Mathias paused before he regained his cheerful demenor. "Bye bye Løve Kone! Hope ya have fun with your new husband!"* Mathias chuckled brightly before tramping out of the room. Tino's face heated up. He barley understood Danish but he was pretty sure what Mathias had just titled him. Tino furrowed his brow with annoyance. It turned out he would be needing that knife... He hoped Nikolas liked sleeping with a dickless Dane.

"Sorry 'bout th't...He's alw'ys a pain n' th' ass..." Berwald muttered softly, turning back to Tino. Tinos face regained his composure and he quickly turned back to the child.

"He clubbed me upside the head. I know." Tino muttered bitterly. Berwald stood up straighter, the top of his flaxen head grazing the top of the tent. Were all Swedish men this tall? Tino thought bitterly.

Berwald sighed and just sat down on a low set stool. His eyes had dissolved their stern glare, like a wall that had been blown to bits by the rough sea wind, leaving nothing but grated rock and land. Bare and truthful.

"I'm s'rry 'bout br'ng'ng ya here... Mathias told m' you c'me of free w'll...I j'st...w'nted m' son b'tter..." Berwald mumbled softly. Tino griped the edge of the bed, his face solid and smooth, but a tear stil managed to escape his violet eyes, trailing downward.

"Momma..."

Tino froze as did Berwald, their eyes both wide.

"Momma...Don't cry..." The feeble voice whispered.

Tino looked down to see the small and round face of the child, his eyes wide, brows craned to give the impression that he was worried. Tino looked to Berwald, not knowing what to say. Berwald bit his lip and walked over to the small little boy. Tino quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his borrowed tunic.

"'s ok P'ter..." Berwald hushed the child. The child's innocent and wide eyes regained a bit of their happiness and Tino plastered a fake smile on his face just for the little boy. The boys face had a bit of freckles tucked into his smooth and soft skin, his baby fat still present in his cheeks. The boy looked stubborn, adventurous, as it he'd never ones heard the word "no" and often liked to cause mischief and pranks. It made Tino want to pat him on the head and give him a hug. He looked like such a spunky cute little boy.

He felt his heart chip a little, allowing something foreign and warm to crawl into the small cracks. Tino stopped breathing for a second. This feeling, this internal warmth that seeped into his heart. It...felt...nice? Yes. Nice.

"I'm not crying, don't worry." Tino breathed deeply. He held the child's hand tighter and did his best to give a genuine smile.

"Don't lie... You're too pretty to lie... lies are for bad people..." The child's voice sounded stubborn and a bit doubtful. He sat up and wedged Tino's hands closer to his cheek, cradling it against his burning hot flesh, his eyes still fixed on Tino with a child's curiosity.

"Pappa...Is this my new Mamma...?" The hopefulness in the child's voice took Tino's solidity away, and he took a staggering breath. He looked sharply to the giant and saw with frustration that Berwalds head was bowed, his face not shown. He remained quite.

Tino looked back to the child with puzzlement. This child did not have a mother? As in, Berwald's wife was no longer in this world? Was she deceased? Tino blinked his violet eyes rapidly.

"H's not m' r'al son..." Berwald whispered in Tino's ears, making the Finn shutter a bit. Tino took a heavy breath of air before smoothing his hands over his knees, doing his best to remain clam and professional. He had a reputation, he was brought here to heal...Tino sighed with frustration and embarrassment...As well as do other things...

"I found h'm last y'ar on a raid... He was in an Eng'sh orph'n'ge th'at had been b'rned d'wn by N'rw'gi'n vikings... The man th're begged meh ta' t'ke 'em... I r'sed 'em as mah own..." Berwald answered, patting Peter affectionately on the head.

Tino couldn't help but noticed the loving look on Berwalds face as his gaze rested on his son. It made Tino feel the warm sensation at his heart grow stronger. Berwald was portraying himself as a kind man, and so far Tino believed him. But that did not mean he could finance a trip to come and claim him like some slave. No matter how needed the Finn was as a healer. Thats exactly what Tino was. A Healer. Not a Bride.

Tino turned back to the child and bit his lip. He could admit to being this child's new mother... He could either make the child cry, or tell a lie? Those were the only two options left for the Finn. Tino swallowed harshly.

"Yes... I will be your Mamma, at least till you're better, okay Peter? But you have to get better." Tino said sweetly. And he meant it. If playing Mommy was what it took to bring up this little child's morale, then Tino would do it till his heart broke from exhaustion. He may not like it, but anything was worth seeing this child happy and healthy again.

Berwald looked up, his face surprised and astonished. His eyes fixed themselves on the little Finn who was now smiling down at his son, an even bigger smile on the bushy browed child's face. Berwald felt his eyes soften. Did that mean Tino would be his wife, if even for a little bit? The small spark of hope was enough to light up Berwalds eyes. Tino. His wife had a cute little name.

"Momma's pretty..." Peter mumbled.

"Ja. Very pr'tty..." Berwald mumbled, his eyes fixed sweetly on Tino's pale a petite face. Tino looked up to Berwald with bewilderment, his face heating up with a loud red color.

Peter sniffed crudely once more before nestling his hands against Tino's neck before sliding his chubby fingers through the small Finn's matted hair, coming back with a bit of red flakes in his hands. The child's eyes went wide.

"Momma, whats this?" Peter asked, his voice still a bit strained and weak. Tino's eyes flashed to the child's hands. He held his breath when he saw small and rust covered flakes of blood in the little boys hands. It must have been the blood that flaked and matted Tino's hair when Mathias had clubbed his in the back of the head when they were still in Finland

Tino laughed nervously before taking the child's hands and wiping the dried blood away with the edges of his blue cloak.

"Oh! That must be the fairy dust that Nikolas sprinkled on me when I go here!" Tino mused, smiling and giggling to the English boy. Peter's eyes twinkled and his mouth formed a little silent 'o'.

Berwalds face turned to an even more heated glare. Who dared to touch his little Bride? Berwald would have them punished! No one hurt his little wife and got away with it!

"Faeries!" Peter shouted with excitement, but quickly coughed and collapsed back onto the bed, his face still holding wonderment.

Tino patted Peter down into the nest like bed, still keeping the covers off the little boy. Who knew how long ago it was before anyone had even changed the bedding or the hay in the cot? Tino knew from experience working with Nikolas that cleanliness and freshly aired out bedding was best for sick patients. Berwalds son would be no exception.

Tino smiled down at the child and spoke softly, sweetly.

"Yes Faeries! Nikolas is friends will all kinds of them! From the Finnish Para to Norwegian Ljósálfar!"* Tino did his best to distract the boy while he combed his hair through his locks, trying to get rid of the dried blood that would soon turn a nasty brown in left uncleaned.

"Pappa said I'm protected by an Alf!"* Peter beamed, rubbing his sore and red nose. Tino smiled down at him and shuffled around with his hands till he found a scrap of clean cloth, its colors long since faded.

"Is that so? Whats your veden väki's name? Here..."* Tino said, wiping the cloth underneath the boys nose. Peter giggled before shoving the cloth almost up his nose, his smiled so bright. Tino laughed. A genuine laugh.

Peter nodded furiously, making Tino chuckle once more.

" I named him Arthur! After the stupid-meanie-mean man who raised me at the orphanage!" Peter shouted with a childish grin. "Pappa says, when I'm a little older and better, he'll take me down to the streams where we can look for the Bäckahäst! But he says I can't ride it..."* Peter frowned dully, crossing his arms over his chest.

Berwald, his eyes staring at the back of Tinos head, noticing the blood and wondering how the little Finn got covered with it. But soon his anger dissolved, at least for now, and Berwald looked to his little son who was giving him the stink eye. Berwald chuckled.

"Th' Bäckahäst can not b' t'med P't'r... Ya kn'w that..." He patted Peter on the head but he just twisted in his bed, his face in a deeper pout. Tino sighed before placing his hands against the brightly dyed wool, as if the beds blankets had been picked by Peter simply because of their pretty and vibrant colors. Tino was betting they had.

"Pappa's right..." Tino muttered. He didn't exactly mind the effort in calling the Swedish viking 'Pappa' but he would only, ONLY, ever do it in front of Peter. Using it anytime else wasn't necessary, wasn't needed. Tino had to focus on getting this child well again. If playing house kept Peter happy and joyful, well then nothing in this world or the next was going to make him stop. No matter how much it annoyed the crap out of the little Finn.

"For the time that I'm here Peter, do what I say. I'll do everything I can to get you better again." Tino mumbled, still not meeting the giants eye. He wasn't exactly sure if he could trust the man, and no was not the time to test the waters. Berwald was a Swede and a Viking. Tino was a Finn and Medicinal healer. It wouldn't work.

Tino had seen and heard things today that made his trust of vikings grow, but... there was still things in his mind, stories, visions, and tales that he had experienced or been told of since he was young that warned him that vikings were ruthless. That they raped and pillaged, burned everything in thier path and killed anything with a pulse. Berwald didn't seem like one of those vikings, but one could never be sure.

"Momma isn't staying?" Peter asked with a hint of sadness to his little sea blue eyes. Tino carefully started to prod at the child's neck, massaging the pale and sticky with sweat skin, searching for any bruising or discoloration, so far he found none.

"We...havn't t'lked it over y't w'th Momma..." Berwald mumbled, taking a small peek at Tino. Tino blushed softly before looking away from the handsome face of the Swede.

"Later..." Was all Tino mumbled before returning his attention back to the sick child.

Tino's hands made their way to Peter's tummy where he heaved up the chemise and placed his hands softly on the boys stomach. Peter giggled softly but allowed his new Momma to lightly pinch his baby fat.

So far nothing seemed out of place...except...

Tino lifted up the chemise full way to expose Peter's skinny tummy peeking up from his little trousers. What he found was the sprawled blue dye of a rune scrawled on the soft flesh of Peters belly.* Tino ran his hands against the blue and crust dye of the pigment before really setting his eyes on the mark. The slanting three lined rune looked to be the handwriting of Nikolas and it made Tino smile, it was in the shape of the Nordic, 'Physical health' symbol. So far Nikolas had already diagnosed the illness at the root of the problem. The stomach.

Tino carefully worked around the flesh, pinching and touching, asking if this hurt here, or there? Only getting a giggle or a "that tickles!" from Peter.

"It looks like his illness is either the cause of his diet, or by something inside him..." Tino mumbled before sitting Peter up and reaching into a jar on the table filled with little tiny strips of white cloth. Tino plucked one from the clay jar and wrapped it around his finger.

"Wh't ya m'an... 'ins'de 'em'...?" Berwald grunted, his hands clasping one of Peters hands. Tino didn't look at the Swede in the eye but down cast his gaze.

"He could have some kind of creature growing in him, a worm or an insect. Has Peter been experiencing any nausea, diarrhea, or vomiting?"

Berwald paused before scrunching up his face.

"Di'rrh'a an' vom'tin', somet'mes w'th blood in tha' bile." Berwald whispered painfully. He looked to his son with sorrow filled eyes. Berwalds eyes reminded Tino greatly of a scared and timid rabbit, so vulnerable, so raw. Tino sighed before turning back to Peter, he did his best to smile in order to not alarm the little boy.

"Peter, I'm going to wipe this on your tongue, okay?" Tino asked, showing Peter his swab covered finger. Peter nodded and Berwald looked on, curiosity hinting at his features.

Tino bit his lip and placed the swab against Peter tongue and after a few seconds pulled it back. He looked at the swab closely. He had hoped the swab would have come out clean, but unfortunately it didn't. It came out sticky with phlegm and dots of red blood. Tino sighed. Peters recovery might take longer than Tino had originally thought.

"So far he has signs of fever, sore throat, runny nose, and stomach problems. For the time being, replace all of the blankets to his bed with fresh and crisp woolen ones. No furs are to be added, especially deer pelts as his illness could have been caused by a tick or worm in the animals fur. Also, replace all the hay with winter dried yellow hay. No green grass or fresh hay is to be stuffed into his bedding, once again worms or insects could be in the stalks of grass used in his nesting. Make sure the hay is soaked in water and dried before you use it. It would be for the best." Tino clasped Peters hands and gave it a friendly squeeze. Peter smiled and fidgeted restlessly.

"I'll make you better Peter, I promise!" Tino assured the little boy. Peter gave a goofy smile before nodding back at the Finn.

"Also, I'd like to take a look at your meat storage as well later on today... I think his diet might be the cause of his problem."

"Ya th'nk tha' meat 's tha' pr'blem?" Berwald asked quietly.

Tino sighed, already used to the Swedes harsh and guttural accent.

"I do. Your camp moves around a lot, judging by the makeshift tents and the lack of animal paddocks, which means you often move the meat and other stored foods with you. This could cause the meat to rot more quickly than the other supplies..." Tino trailed off.

Berwald stayed silent until he sighed. "Ya re'lly care... Don't ya..." Berwald murmured, his glare softening to a small smile. Tino felt his heart skip a beat.

He cleared his throat and nodded. "I care." And he meant it

Berwalds smile grew, his own face turning pink. This little Finn was so lovely and cute, strong and free willed. To top it all off, he actually cared about the well being of his son. Granted the Finn looked absolutely terrified of the Swede, but that happened to most people when they first met Berwald. Berwald couldn't help coming off strong and scary. It was just what he looked like. But hopefully, hopefully things would change. He liked his peace offering, liked him very much. Nikolas was right, his cousin was sweet and very helpful in the wart at medicine. Then it happened. Berwald made up his mind. He would convince Tino to be his wife, no matter what it took.

As much as Tino disliked being called 'momma', he would let the little sandy blonde haired boy call him as such. He would do his best to try and keep his eyes off of the tall and handsome Swede though. But he felt like getting attracted to Peter might be okay. Where was Tino really going to go? He certainly wasn't going to run away, plus Nikolas was here, and he couldn't bare to be apart from his cousin again. Plus, something in his mind told him that if he did dare to run away he wouldn't get very far. The Danes and Swedes would hunt him down like dogs. Tino bit his lip. He supposed he could stay here and live out the rest of his life. What harm could it do? As long as he didn't let his heart get swept up by sweet words and promises he would be fine. If anything, becoming the little boys mother might give Peter some boost in moral which could help him recover faster from his illness... Speaking of which.

"Peter? How about we get you cleaned up, hmmm?" Tino asked the little boy, helping him sit up from the confines of the sweat drenched bed. The little boy fidgeted but allowed his new momma to help him sit up at the edge of the bed, his legs swinging back and forth, a grin perched on his face, one of his baby teeth missing to form a goofy hole in his smile. It was simply darling.

Tino turned to Berwald and he softened his smiled to a hesitant look. He was still weary, he still didn't entirely trust this man, or at least didn't want to. Not yet.

"Can you help him over to that stool?" Tino asked, motioning with his eyes to the low set three legged stool that Berwald had been sitting on before. Berwald nodded and tucked his strong and powerful arms underneath Peter's lanky ones, heaving the child up to rest on his hip, his hands tucked underneath him to keep from falling. The child giggled before wrapping his small and pinkish hands around Berwalds neck. Like a proud and ferocious lion with his cute little cub.

After sitting the small little boy on the ceder wooden stool, the leather flaps of the hut were brushed aside and Mathias ever present grin greeted the three inhabitants. Mathias stooped in and held out a huge wicker basket fled to the brim with all the materials Tino had asked for, his other arm painstakingly carrying a wooden bucked that was jostled with steaming hot water. Tino frowned before scornfully ripping the contents from Mathias's arms and clearing a spot down on the herb littered table before setting the goods down lightly. Mathias's grin just widened and he set down a wooden tub of steaming hot water next to a sniffling Peter.

"Wow...You can cut the tension in here with a knife!" Mathias chuckled, his hands on his hips. Berwald and Tino growled together. Well, at least it was both established that neither of them really liked the damn Dane.

"Speaking of knife..." Tino muttered sourly underneath his breath. Mathias just chuckled.

"Guess what Uncle Mathias!" Peters voice hummed over the disapproving glares of Tino and Berwald. The bright blue eyed little boy did wonders to melt Tino's heart and fix his heated temperament.

"What lille løve cub?"* Mathias smiled, bending down on his knees to look the little kid in the eye. Peter ginned innocently.

"I have a new Momma!" Peter sing-songed as loud as he could before sneezing twice as loud. Tino fidgeted, his hands clutching the whittled down bar of lye soap and the wash cloth in a near death grip. Berwald cleared his throat before settling Peter down with some mumblings of Swedish words. Peter scrunched up his face but pouted.

"Well he issssss my Momma... He said so Pappa!" Peter whined to Berwald. Tino quietly patted Peters head, his nervousness returning like a rising thunderstorm, unpredictable and uneasy.

"Yes...Yes, Peter's right." Tino muttered softly, not looking Berwald in the eye. Even if he was to be Peter's "mother" He would not, NOT, accept being a vikings wife. Nothing could change him otherwise. Vikings were cruel, horrible, disgusting men. He was taught at an early age like the other children in his village to hate them and scorn them with good measure. A viking could not be trusted. Tino would take that rule to heart, even if Nikolas seemed to have forgotten it. Sure, Berwald was a bit scary, but he truly was nice. But. But he was still a Swedish viking, and Tino had only known him for an hour or two. Perhaps as time fades Tino and Berwald might become good friends, but he certainly would not marry the man. Tino bit his lip, his blush back in place. At least...He was pretty sure he wouldn't.

"Thats wonderful lille løve cub, I'm sure your new Momma loves you very much." Mathias chuckled darkly, his eyes flashing to Tino. Tino wanted to smack the man to the ground and feed him his own battle axe, blade first.

Tino knew he wasn't being forced to love this child, to be forced to heal him. He wanted to. He wanted to help this child see another bright summer, he wanted to see this child grow up strong and healthy, to be able to play and have fun with the rest of the healthy children.

Mathias had said it himself. If this child dies, then the Swedes and Danes would go to war, abandoning their peace agreements and common goal of pushing back the Russians. Tino did not want to be responsible for any more bloodshed, but he felt as if the entire stability of the two clans rested on his shoulders and his alone.

He bit his lip. He didn't want to be the only thing, the only person, keeping the Danes and Swede's at bay from tearing each others throats out like wild dogs. So far, he had no quarrel with the Danish people nor the Swedish. No, that had been resolved with the terrifying reality of the Russian traitors that muddled through his village. Tino would bare it and accept it. The Danish were justified in their killings. He hated to admit it, but if Nikolas said it was true then...it must be true.

When the raid happened a year a go, the only wounded had been adults, selected men and women. A few things had been stolen, but nothing much. Crops had been burned, live stock slaughtered, but once again, only those belonging to a few selected families. It made sense. Tino just hated to admit it. The Danes and Swedes were supposed to be the traitors, the villains. Not the other way around.

Tino would stay protect and heal the little boy. He would live among the Swedish tribes, as Nikoals did with the Danes. But it would take more than time to love that man with the sea green eyes. He wouldn't allow his heart to be so easily claimed like Nikolas's. If he was forced to marry than he was forced to marry. But it would take more than a handsome face and a nice body to make the Finn fall in love. The peace treaty be damned.

"Mathias..." Berwalds stern voice broke Tino's thinking. Tino looked up at the tall Swede and felt his stomach clench. He had to keep this man out of his thoughts! He had to keep his heart solid and strong. But he admitted it would be a challenge. The man already proved himself to be caring, considerate, and dare he say it? Sexy. Yes. The leader of the Lions Tribe was incredibly sexy.

Perhaps it was the danger that went with him. The fact that Tino was in the presence of an exotic creature, like a lion behind a cage. You knew it couldn't get to you, you knew you were safe. But that thought of it pouncing on you still crept into your mind. That lion could still snap its jaws through those bars and eat your throat out. Tino shivered.

Oh yes. Berwald was sexy and dangerous. The perfect combination. The fit and incredibly tall Swedish man had strong manly features, with a sharp jagged jawline and high cheek bones that made his eyes even more noticeable. It was like looking out of a stone castle window and getting and eyeful of the rough and rugged roaring sea. Tino shivered once again and wrapped his arms around him.

Tino was starting to feel the damnable heat creep up his face once more. He had hoped it would take more than good looks to break the Finns resolution, but so far, things were not looking good for the young Finn of nineteen winters.

Mathias grinned before bending his knees and standing up. He waved his hands through Peters hair, ruffling it up, making the child giggle. Berwald just glared.

"Se ya later Løve Kone!" He cackled before exiting the tarp. Tino sighed with relief at the Danes departure. He already hated the damned nickname already but feared that there was no way to get rid of it now. So, squatting down to the little sniffling boy he smiled and patted the boys hands.

"How about I give you a nice cleaning up, hmm? Pappa can help too." Tino muttered, edging his eyes to Berwald. Tino would play around a bit, test the waters, see if there was anyway he could maybe learn more about the man he was to apparently marry. Tino felt his heart lurch in his heart. Marry. Marry. MarryMarryMarry... Tino felt dizzy.

He was to be a wife. A wife of a viking. A Swedish viking. Tino rested his hand to his head and rubbed ferociously. Berwald looked up at him and grunted, worry in his eyes. Tino looked at the man and yelped quietly.

"Hee hee Momma made a doggy noise!" Peter quipped, gripping the sides of the stool before coughing slightly.

"Ow..." He mumbled, scratching his throat. Tino, his blush quieting, returning his brain back to helping the sick child. He fumbled with the bow on Peters nightgown, untying it.

"Peter, Pappa is going to remove your chemise and trousers and then we are going to give you a small bath, okay?" Peter nodded.

"Better take him outside. We don't want his huts floor to get wet." Tino muttered to Berwald after a second thought.

"'s m' hut..." Berwald spoke softly before picking up the wriggling little boy and setting him on his hip again. He heaved up the tub of hot water with the other hand like it was as light as a feather. Tino paused before grabbing the bundle of cloth, bowls, and soap.

"Its your hut?" Tino gasped. Tino looked to the right of him to see a small cot shoved up against one of the skeletal wooden beams of the leather tarp hut. The bed was so small and so uncomfortable looking that there was no way Tino would have ever thought that a famous and brutal tribe leader would ever consider sleeping on it.

"You slept next to your son while he was sick?" Tino ask, not even bothering to hide the bewilderment that seeped and filled his voice like a roaring river. Berwald nodded curtly.

"What if Peter had had an infection? Or something contagious like the plague? You could have gotten ill too!" The little Finn shouted with heated breath. Berwald turned around to loom in front of his face. The inklings of a smirk on his lips.

"Are ya w'rried 'bout me, m' w'fe?" Berwald hummed, his voice playful. Tino's eyes widened and his growled in frustration.

"I am not your wife damnit! I'm a boy!" He hissed. Berwald chuckled.

"Ya look l'ke a c'te lil' w'fe..." He mumbled. Peter nodded vigorously.

"Yep, Yep! Pappa's right! Momma is pretty! Like a Fairy!" Peter sing-songed. Tino's eyebrow twitched but he willed himself to stay calm. He would give the Swede a piece of his mind later.

Berwald untied the latches that held the tent closed and pushed it open. Tino stormed outside and almost immediately, all the noise and commotion that he had heard outside had quieted, leaving everything still and silent.

A man who was leading his pony by the reigns abruptly stopped and bowed low to the ground, taking off his hat, his pony whinnying. A small group of children playing with some firewood kindling as swords and grass dolls stopped their laughter and immediately smiled before curtsying or bowing. A few women rotating a spit with a leg of dark red lamb meat cooking on the coals stopped from rotating the spit to bow, picking up their skirts. Tino dropped the wicker basket filled with scraps on the floor were he stood, noticing that Berwald had long since abandoned the bucket of hot water.

Every man, women and child, be they Danish or Swede stopped what they were doing in a heart beat and bowed, low to the ground, like withering stalks of wheat left to dry in the crisp Autumn air. It left Tino amazed and a bit astonished. Tino saw Mathias and Nikolas in the crowd.

The Dane waved and smiled smugly, Nikolas's eyes nuertal, his hands holding Björt to his chest. Mathias and Nikolas quickly bowed before joining in standing to the right of Berwald. Nikolas had changed and was now wearing a dark navy blue tunic with a silver encrusted belt, little Bjöt in a bright red and blue tunic, wide eyed and giggling. Mathias had changed as well, his dark red cloak still in place, but the hide of a wolf thrown over his shoulder, the skinned animals teeth still in place still sharp. It reminded Tino of the Danes barbaric grin. Tino growled irritably.

"You must be really liked by your people." Tino muttered, inching close to the Swede, feeling more secure by his side than the Danes oddly enough. A thicker more solid group of people began to surface around the tent, their eyes bright, smiles on their faces. Each one spoke bits and pieces of Swedish and Danish, most of which Tino could not understand. Berwald simply smiled.

"There not b'wing fer' meh..." Berwald mused, his head held high, Peter still clutching onto his Pappas neck. Tino froze and looked over at the sea of people. All of the villagers blue or jade eyed, with pale or bright golden hair. All of them, gazing with intent at Tino. He nearly shit himself on the spot.

It was Mathias who first stepped forward, his battle axe in place, held high.

"Let it be known all through the land! The Danes and the Swedes shall fight as brothers on the battle field! We will crush the invaders and claim back our land! Alle hagl Ulvene og Løverne!"* Mathias shouted uproariously and thrust his battle axe. All throughout the rows of tents and huts people cheered wildly, men roared, women clapped and children jumped up and down chaotically. Next it was Berwald who stepped forward.

Immediately everything grew quiet again and all eyes fixed on the Swedish leader. Berwald placed Peter down and the little boy scampered over to Tino and clutched at his Tino. Tino blinked a few times but remember his role as Momma. He picked up the frail child and held him to his hip. Every eye sparked. Tino had a bad feeling about this.

"Nu kan du se honom! Din Damen av Lejon! Han kommer att hålla fred mellan de svenska och danska. Vi är bröder nu mot en gemensam fiende! Hagel till Damen Lejon!"* Berwalds voice roared out with such ferocity that Tino jumped from shock. He looked across the Swedes face and saw pride, love, and bravery all painted across his usually stern and frightening glare. It made Tino tense and, looking to Mathias, he saw the mans face grinning wildly, his battle axe raised high. It was only then that Tino noticed Berwald had pulled out a huge sword that seemed to weigh more than little Peter. Together the two men raised their weapons and shouted loudly over the villiage, over the trees, over the mountains, cliffs and valleys.

"All hail the Tribe of the Northern Lions! All hail to the Tribe of the Southern Wolves!" Berwald and Mathias growled out, their faces showing brutality and strength. Then, Berwald turned to Tino and soon Peter was gingerly placed into the arms of a woman, along with Björt. Tino stared in puzzlement as Nikolas gently tugged on Tinos tunic sleeve, pulling the Finn forward next to Berwald. Nikolas's face remained neutral but he whispered "I'm sorry" into Tino's ears. Tino's eyes widened.

In an instant, Tino was pulled against Berwalds chest and Nikolas was pulled to Mathias. The two taller men, weapons still raised, faced the crowd.

"Th' p'ace has been m'de. Let the Damen Lejon lead us ta' v'ctory!"* Berwald shouted. He threw his sword to the floor and it sank into the ground, the tip of its blade still shaking. Mathias hiked his axe behind his head before bringing it down, hard, onto the ground. Both the tribes cheered madly.

What happened next Tino was not prepared for. As soon as the sword left the bearish hands of the might Swede, Tino was heaved upward by the strong and gentle arms of the Swede. Tino's eyes widened and he fought and kicked, his face heating up as if a flame had been lit underneath his chin. He looked next to him and saw that Mathias had picked up Nikolas too, only Nikolas was not struggling. Dare he say, he was actually...Smiling?

And then it happened.

Tino watched as Mathias crushed his lips to his cousins in a dominating and victorious kiss, weaving his strong hands into Nikolas's soft and pale blonde hair. The crowed went wild. Tino sputtered, his eyes widening at the shameless sight displayed before him.

Was Nikoals mad? What was it? Piss off Tino day? Tino glared at the two next to him before realizing something. He looked down and saw Berwald's face, smiling, smirking almost. Tino felt his heart lurch, his head spinning and his heart beating wildly in his chest.

Oh no. Oh no. Ohnononnononononononnonnoo.

Tino pushed against the Swedes shoulders, craning his neck as far away as he could from the Swede's head, from the Swedes lips. He knew what was about to happen. And he would fight it to his last breath. But...Being the obviously weaker one out the two, he was quickly subdued.

All around Tino, the roars and shouts reached his ears. "Lady Lion! Lady Lion!" Tino shut his eyes tight and felt a calloused hand, wide palms and slender fingers brush gently against his hair. Tino bit his lip and made a small squeaking noise, similar to a mouse.

Then it happened.

Hesitantly, cautiously, a brush of warm lips grazed against Tinos in a sweet brush of loving willingness. All of the sudden a spark, a jolt of lightning seemed to hit the Finn and his heart began to thump and his body suddenly hummed with warmth. It felt wonderful, amazing, and oh-so-dangerous.

Tino cracked open his eyes and met with Sea green ones that looked like they had been stolen off of a lusty jungle cat. Tinos face heated up and his heart beat with the ferocity of a drum, loud and wild, primitive and strong. Tino shut his eyes tight and did something that he feared he would regret for the rest of his life.

He clutched the back of the Berwalds head and crashed his lips against him harder.

The Peace Treaty be damned.

...

Haha Tino, your fucked now! I'm sorry if the emotions seemed rushed guys! I just need to keep it moving! I keep forgetting the time zone from America to Scandinavia is very different, so I didn't get to talk to my two translators online as much as I'd like to, so the ending Swedish and Danish dialogue is probably wrong. REVIEW! SHOWER ME WITH LOVE LIKE TINO WILL SOON SHOWER BERWALD WITH SEX! (Tee-Hee Oh my)

Authors Notes:

-""What can I do for ya', Prinsessan?"* Mathias chuckled darkly." -"Princess" In Swedish

\- ""Bye bye Løve Kone! Hope ya have fun with your new husband!"*"- "Lion wife" in Danish

-""Yes Faeries! Nikolas is friends will all kinds of them! From the Finnish Para to Norwegian Ljósálfar!"*"- A "Para" was a Finnish spirit who was belived to bring good wealth to farmers who fed and harboured them. A 'Ljósálfar' was the name given to the 'lighter Elves' or the good Elves.

-""Pappa said I'm protected by an Alf!"*" - "Alf" is the Swedish term for a male Elf.

"-""Is that so? Whats your veden väki's name? Here..."*"- a "veden väki" was a water Elf who deals with healing powers.

-"Pappa says, when I'm a little older and better, he'll take me down to the streams where we can look for the Bäckahäst! But he says I can't ride it..."*-a "Bäckahäst" translates to "brook horse" is a famous Mythical beast. It is a beautiful white horse that lures riders onto its back. But once the rider is securly on, they can never get off, so the horse roams into the water and drowns the rider. Cool huh?

-"What he found was the sprawled blue dye of a rune scarwled on the soft flesh of Peters belly.*"- Runes are an alphabet that was used most commonly in Norwegian and British history; they are still used today by Pagans everywhere, though they are mostly associated with the use of magic now.

-"What lille løve cub?"*" -"Little lion cub" in Danish

-""Let it be known all through the land! The Danes and the Swedes shall fight as brothers on the battle field! We will crush the invaders and claim back our land! Alle hagl Ulvene og Løverne!"*"- "Alle hagl Ulvene og Løverne!"- "All hail the wolves and lions" -Danish

-""Nu kan du se honom! Din Damen av Lejon! Han kommer att hålla fred mellan de svenska och danska. Vi är bröder nu mot en gemensam fiende! Hagel till Damen Lejon!""- Long and inccorrect translation is inncorrect and long! "Now you see him! Your Lady of the Lion! He will keep the peace between the Swedish and Danish. We are brothers now against a common enemy: Hail to the Lady Lions.!"-Swedish

-"Damen Lejon"- "Lady Lion" in Swedish.


	3. Will You Be My Wife?

Hey guys! Another reminder, this story is going to have some blood and sex, and spit fire Tino (if you like moe Finn, maybe this story isn't for you) so just a heads up! Also, thank you for the many reviews and support that this story has gotten so far, especially from GrammarNazi101, your critic and review was incredibly valued!

I screwed up with Tino's emotions with rushing them, so I'll try to clean it up a bit. Thank you to my three Swedish/Finnish translators, MalinChan, yotizie, and Ruusu! Much love to you guys! ONCE AGAIN, THIS FIC IN NOT HISTORICALLY ACCURATE! REVIEW OR THE DOLPHINS WILL STEAL MAH BRAIN! Oh shit this story is hard to write with angry pissed off Tino...grrr damn you conflicting emotions!

...

Tino's ears were drumming violently with a vibrating noise similar to a bees angry hum. His eyes were shut so tight that it hurt with a clenching pinch and he was almost positive that his fingers had grown numb and bone white from gripping onto something solid and warm. His lungs burned and his heart was beating like a wild war horse set loose through a heated battle field. Confused and delirious, nervous and slightly scared. Scared? Yes, Tino was scared.

He had done something that went against everything he had ever known. He had kissed the Swedish viking, the one person that he was taught to despise and to hate with fluid anger. It hurt his heart deeply, like a raging flood carving relentlessly into a soft soiled valley, destroying and scraping. His head was spinning and flooding with warmth that felt too good to be true.

His heart would not stop in its viscous constricting hold on his emotions. It stung and made it hard to breathe. Soon, with the help of him coming to his senses Tino pulled back like a reigned in horse, wide eyed and in shock. His throat became dry when he met with those solid and heavy staring eyes, sea green and dogmatic like a heavy laden storm across a field of green. Tino swallowed harshly, willing his lungs to devour as much air as they could.

"I...I..." Tino scrambled over his words with fright, his face a bright and hellish red. He furrowed his brows in nervousness and kicked weakly in the gentle and soft embrace that held him to a solid and warm chest.

The kiss had felt wonderful, sweet, and soft, but that was what terrified him most. Vikings were not supposed to be gentle and kind, they were supposed to be rough and cruel! It was this clash of emotions that seemed to stun Tino into a stupor, a battle of inner conflict. But sadly the emotional side won the battle fiercely with a sharp pang to his slowly warming heart.

Tino shook his head wildly, the first bought of tears stinging his cheeks bitterly. He cried out loudly and pressed against the Swede's shoulders, watching with a sudden urge of sadness as those once happy eyes turned confused and almost saddened. Tino shut his eyes and kicked violently, falling onto the floor, the hard ground smacking against his knees with pain. He breathed violently, hearing the shouts of happiness and joy disperse from the infested clearing.

Hands stopped their maddened waving, smiles dissipated and were replaced with frowns, children's innocent giggles were scattered away into the air, handfuls of flowers fell to the ground, the happiness all but drained. And all Tino could do was look into those wonderful sea green eyes, anew with crushed hope and sadness, and weep.

"I...I can't like you...! I...I'm supposed to hate you!" Tino cried out, his cheeks aflame with red. He bit off his cry with the air bitterly, his fingers clenched to his sides. He was confused. Warm and confused, a dangerous combination. The kiss had sparked so many things inside him, had felt so natural and right... but it also felt conflicting and dangerous. It left Tino suddenly exposed and vulnerable and he didn't like it. Ever since Nikolas had left him a year ago he had done his best to harden himself, make himself tough and stubborn...But those lips, they were like a key that had unlocked something, something that Tino wasn't sure if he wanted open.

"T'no..." Berwald breathed out but Tino shook his head and looked down at the floor, anything was better than looking into those eyes that made him shudder and feel things that he shouldn't. Those eyes that caressed his heart so sweetly, that made his face blush and his breath grow hot. Those eyes that made him feel the damnable emotion of...What? What emotion was it? What was the Finn feeling that made every fiber of his being scream out, that made his head dizzy and his knees weak, that caused his heart to beat wildly and his cheeks to turn crimson? What emotion?

Tino bit his lip, the true onslaught of the salty tears trailing down his face. He didn't know what he was feeling for the Swede. He knew it felt different and strange, anxious and raw, but he just couldn't for the life of him name it. Tino, blubbering like a little child looked up at Berwald and wiped his eyes with the heel of his hands. He didn't know if this was the right choice, but for now this was what it was going to have to come down to.

" I may be your Damen Lejon..." Tino bit out weakly, the hot tears getting the better of him. "I may be your healer...But if you want me as your wife, then you better damn well earn it! Not with kisses, not with strength, but with your kindness. Prove to me that you're different, prove to me that I shouldn't just run away into the forest and let the wolves eat me." Tino snapped out bitterly, turning his body backward with heated emotions flying from his heart like stinging knives thrown to the air. Tino sobbed once more before looking back to stare Berwald right in the eyes. Those sea green eyes.

"Prove to me that you actually, truly, devotedly, love me." He mumbled weakly, swallowing his pride.

Berwald's face, wide eyed and confused, suddenly grew stern and serious. The Swede nodded but made no move to catch Tino's hands and bring him back to his chest, to his warm arms. Tino half wanted the man to. He hated to admit it but Berwald had been a breath of fresh air from the frightening stories he had been told of when he was young. Berwald was different... At least Tino thought. He had only known the man for a few hours, who was he to make a decision based on the little time they had spent together? He gritted his teeth, planting his feet against the strange and muddied soil he ran for the closest tent available, a smaller, more humble looking one that had yellow and blue symbols drawn beautifully on the leather, fluttering flags decorating the top like streaming sunlight that had been plucked from the sky.

Tino made a mad dash for the shelter, his feet trampling on flowers and ribbons that had lined the streets when the villagers were celebrating. Now everyone just looked lost. But Tino didn't pay any attention to them. Right now all he wanted to do was curl up into a little ball and cry. That was good enough for him.

He wasn't entirely sure what he felt for the Swede. If it was a kindness, a pity, a likeness, or perhaps even... Tino swallowed thickly. If Berwald wanted a wife, it would take more than a nice body to acquire one from the Finn. Tino would make the Swede prove that he really cared for the little Finn and did not just want him for a meaningless trophy. If Berwald didn't love Tino, than the little Finn would never ever marry the man, at least not consensually. He would continue to fight with his last bated breath to claw away from the Swede! But... If he did actually have good intentions, and actually loved him, well... Tino was sure that he could never truly love the man fully, but he could learn to, couldn't he? Berwald was a big burly viking and Tino was a small, impish little healer who knew nothing of the outside world. There was no telling what the Gods had in store for their future, that thought alone left Tino frightened and in an emotional bundle of nerves.

If Tino had any, any little spark of attraction to the Swede that was not entirely due to his nice body and gentleness, then Tino would consider this proposal. But right now all that he wanted to think about was keeping little Peter alive to see another day, or many more innocent people would die by the two leaders hands. Tino felt his lungs give out and another wave of guilt, pity, terror, confusion, anxiety, and even weakness flow through him. This was too much. All of this was too too too much.

Tino shivered, feeling the tears wrack his body once more. He liked the Swede he really did, but Berwald was a viking, and that would not be forgotten lightly. But the Swede seemed very persistent in marrying Tino. Tino sighed, his lungs aching and lurching with the sharp intake of breaths.

The words had already been said, the Finn could not take them back. Even though his heart still screamed and his eyes still stung with ferocious tears, Tino would have none of it. This was his decision. He might not like it now, but soon he would. At least, he thought. He hoped with sadness that he was right. If Berwald wanted him, he would have to show himself different from the barbarian vikings, or else Tino would fight to the death against being his damnable wife till the very end.

Tino's legs shook from underneath him as he sought out with shaking breath the smaller hut, watching as people, shocked and confused moved out of his way. Tino pushed the flaps from the hut with a wild jerk and stumbled inside, falling down on a big four poster empty bed. He crawled up it desperately, like an injured dog licking his wounds before throwing his weight down against the sheep skins and woolen blankets dyed a dull brown.

He smashed his face into the covers and felt all the hurt, confusion and pain welt out from his heart to pour out from his eyes in tears that stung and blistered. He didn't care who saw, who heard, he would cry his little heart out because he was scared. Scared of the emotion that had now crept into his heart and rooted itself in his mind. He would never get rid of them. The damnable feelings were planted and embedded deep into the red flesh of his heart. It was that alone that made the tears scream from his face in waves.

Tino felt the look of those sea green eyes before his vision once more. With an exhausted breath he began to softly cry himself to sleep into the warm folds and furs of the bed, too tired to even think of anything but those eyes.

Those eyes that made him feel unreasonably safe, yet scared. Oh so scared. Scared of an emotion he could now regrettably name. Love. He was slowly falling in love with Berwald. And that alone frightened him more then anything.

...

"Tino...Tino?" A soft and worried voice pressed and seeped into Tino's ears lightly, like the caresses of spring water down a moss covered rock. Tino winced, opening his mouth to lick at his lips, only to notice that his tongue was as dry as a piece of rye bread. He smacked his chapped lips feverishly and cracked one of his eyes open, feeling the beginning's of a headache ravage through his brain.

He let out a quite moan of discomfort at the sudden blare of light from the waxen candles glaring into his vision. He shook his head softly, running his tongue over the roof of his mouth, trying to stop the persistent drumming through his head. He sighed suddenly when he felt the soft caress of a hand petting his hair, making him take a big intake of breath through his nose. Tino mumbled before his vision focused on the worried and pitied face of Nikolas, stooping low before, him, sitting on the edge of the bed that Tino was half heartily in. Tino's mouth bit into a growl.

"You knew this would happen..." He cried out weakly, the inklings of his tears forming near the edges of his watery violet eyes. Nikolas frowned before sliding his cool fingers against Tino's forehead. Tino leaned into the touch, sighing with anguish.

"I didn't handle that as well as I should have..." Tino mumbled out, his voice still bitter. Nikolas did his best to smile.

"Hmm... Lets see, you embarrass the leader of the Norther Lions tribe in front of his people, run like a little girl crying into a royal tent, and then sleep in till eight at night... No, you didn't handled it well. You handled it horribly." Nikolas muttered half jokingly, doing his best to keep his cousin from spiraling down into tears again. Tino smiled sourly.

"You shouldn't have brought me here." Tino sighed. His head was throbbing in the back of his skull, the ware of the day having already taking it toll, chipping off Tino's strength and sanity like a rock to an arrow head.

"I would have rather had my head split open by a Russian sword than to go through that again...It's not fair...I'm feeling things that I'd ever imagine I'd ever feel..." Tino mumbled, rolling on his stomach and sitting upward, his elbows weak from exhaustion. Nikolas sighed and wrapped the blankets tighter against Tino's tummy and chest.

Tino felt miserable. He had been kidnapped, found out that his village had been full of traitors, become the wife of a viking, had his first kiss stolen by said viking, and then had run like a little girl with his tail between his legs, only to come to the conclusion that maybe he was already developing feelings for the damnable man.

Tino groaned tiredly before running his hands through his hair. He bit his bottom lip and hugged at his knees, watching as the dull and boring blankets began to pull tighter around his body, hugging him. Nikolas sighed sadly before reaching next to him and lifting up a glazed clay mug, some sweet smelling steam floating from the top of the beverage. Nikolas nudged it into Tino's hands and the Finn accepted it half heartily. He held it to his lips and sniffed cautiously. It was hot boiled water that had been doused with honey and a few chunky bits of white willow bark and dried camomile buds, Tino's favorite.* He drank it down without a final though marveling in the pungent sticky sweetness of the drink.

Once he was done with thirstily drinking the entire cup, Nikolas held out a small wooden plate crammed with bits of food. Tino eyed it curiously before hearing his stomach growl hungrily, demanding nourishment. Tino, his tears drying up on his bone pale face, took the offered plate and began to eat, picking up the heel of some dark and moist bread that smelled faintly citrus like. Tino nibbled at the edge of the bread before smiling, liking the taste of it very much.

"This is good, what is it?" Tino asked, taking a whole bite and chewing thoughtfully. He would do anything to distract himself from his currant predicament, anything.

The bread was a bit sticky on his fingers, evidence of thick and sluggish molasses that had been mixed in with the yeast. He ate the last of the wedged and licked each digit clean, marveling in the taste.

"It's called limpa, a Swedish bread that was baked just today for the wedding."* Nikolas smirked, scooping a finger on his own wooden plate, laden with just fruits and boiled vegetables.

Tino made a disgusted and puckered face before sticking his tongue out with horror, pushing the plate as far away from himself as he possibly could, balancing it on his blanketed legs that were now beginning to feel stiff.

"Ugh! I hate Swedish food!" he whined hotly. Nikolas scoffed, munching slowly on a bit of apple, the red fruit encrusted with a huge bite mark in it, juice dribbling slightly down its vibrant flesh.

"You don't hate the food, you just hate that its Swedish." Nikolas stated smugly, his opaque eyes covering up his emotions nicely, like a shroud placed over his mind, caressing and form fitting, it hid it all behind that mask of coolness.

"Speaking of Swedish... What happened while I was out?" Tino mumbled sourly, grabbing at a small little bowl that had a helping of peppery potato soup, little flakes of bright green herbs swimming in the thick mixture. Tino brought the bowl to his lips and slurped loudly, sighing with happiness as the thick and hot mixture slid down his throat. Oh how he missed wonderful sensation of a full and content belly.

Nikolas sighed before setting down the now ravaged apple core, picking up the bulky body of a roasted squash, drizzled with honey and a few flakes of milk. Nikolas nibbled at the orange gourd before looking Tino in the eye. The Finn sat up and took another sip of his soup.

"After you so heatedly ran from Berwald, he had to confront the village and assure them that everything was all right and that you would still stay with the tribe and be a healer to his son. He had a long hour talk with Mathias and the Danish tribe as well, repeatedly telling them that the peace treaty was still solid and that they had nothing to worry about." Nikolas sighed wearily, looking Tino straight in the eye. Tino flinched slightly.

"You caused a lot of trouble for the two tribes, especially Berwald." Nikolas stated seriously, his eyes relentless in their attempt to bore into Tino's head. Tino looked down at his lap, the scratchy wool warm and snugly against his aching legs.

"Good." He muttered out softly, his bottom lip jutting out in a stubborn pout. Nikolas rolled his eyes before taking the bowl from Tino's clenched fingers.

"Tino, I'm sorry I got you into this mess, it was either this or you would have been killed. I'm satisfied to say that I believe I made the right choice. But its time you start thinking about this seriously!" Nikolas barked out, his blue eyes growing irritable, like a thin layer of ice on a pond that breaks under weight, cracking and plunging its victim into the freezing water. Tino flinched and shrugged his shoulders up.

"I have thought about it seriously... I gave Berwald a choice, I'll be his wife if he proves to me that he truly loves me..." Tino muttered out gingerly, his breath not able to hold the intensity of spite that it once did. Nikolas breathed out sharply, flicking his hands against a low set table, setting the clump of squash down.

"Tino, I know this is hard for you, you're in the same situation that I was a year ago, but you have to realize the importance of your choices. You have responsibility now! Your duties are to take care of Peter and raise him as your own and to be Berwald's partner. That is all." Nikolas breathed out, sitting up straighter. Tino mentally thanked Nikolas for using the word 'partner' instead of 'wife' it did wonders to relieve some tension from between his eyes.

"I am not some concubine Nikolas. If I marry Berwald it will be because of love." Tino growled out, chewing lazily on some feverfew leaves, trying to ward off the migraine in his head.* Nikolas shut his eyes and breathed out through his nose.

"Let me tell you something. When I was being dragged off by Mathias a year ago, I was clubbed over the head and woke up in a bed of furs and hay, with Mathias's naked arms wrapped around me. It was the most terrifying and frighting moment in my life." Nikolas said, his voice stern and solid.

"What did you do?" Tino asked, pausing in chewing the green leaf between his teeth.

Nikolas smirked slightly. "I kicked him in the groin and ran for my life. It took four guards and a whole three yards of rope just to catch me and bring me back..." Nikolas paused before sighing and grasping Tino's hands tightly. "I learned to cope Mathias, and after the first month, I was head over heels in love with the idiot, though I'd never admit that to him or anyone else but you..." Nikolas grumbled.

Tino looked down at the covers of the bed, lightly squeezing his cousin's fingers in his, trying his best to keep calm and not cry out like a little infant weaned of its mothers milk.

"Nikolas...Whats going to happen to me?" Tino asked, his voice harsh and thick from the watery tears now sliding from his face. Nikolas shut his eyes tighter and held his cousin close to him, letting Tino's hands bury themselves in Nikolas's holiday robe, the Finn's fingers desperately clinging to the Norwegian for comfort.

"You will become a bride Tino, you have no choice in that. But you can control a bit of your destiny as well. If you don't want to do certain things that are expected of you, then you don't have to. As long as you have the title of wife, and keep Peter alive, no one can do anything against your wishes, you are the Damen Lejon, your word is just as powerful as Berwald's now. " Nikolas kissed the top of Tino's feather like hair and squeezed him into a tight hug, feeling Tino's tears stain his shoulder and collar bone.

"I'm sorry Tino, but this is what the Gods have chosen for your path. They work in wondrous and mysterious ways, they do things for the good and for the bad, none of it we can change or fully understand. I'm sorry but this is your life now." Nikolas gasped out into the now smokey shelter. The candlelight flickered madly against the tent walls, illuminating fox and rabbit skins that had been left to tighten and dry until they could be properly used as clothing. A low cute mirror leaned against one of the skeletal beams of the tent, the glint form the waxed candles setting off shivers of light.

The young Norwegian sighed as he combed his fingers through Tino's sweat drenched hair. Nikolas was having his own trouble trying to melt away the soft patter of tears that began to fall from his face. This was the exact same path that he had to walk, he knew how hard it was and how it tried ones soul, but Tino would not be alone for this journey. Nikolas would help him with anything the Finn needed. Tino would survive this. Nikolas was sure of it.

Nikolas knew Berwald would take good care of the little Finnish man, he knew that the Swede had actually fallen in love with the Finn before he even saw his violet eyes and innocent face. Nikolas had watched and pondered the Swede's infatuation with the Finn even before he ever laid eyes on his little cousin.

As soon as Nikolas had proposed the idea of contacting Tino a few weeks ago, Berwald had agreed to it reverently, making preparations well into the first day that Nikolas had brought it up. Nikolas could even safely say that he saw a real smile, no matter how small and soft on the Swedish barbarians face whenever Nikolas would mention his cousin. At that moment, Nikolas knew from the bottom of his heart that Berwald would be the best choice for Tino's husband. The Swede would keep him happy and safe. The giant of a man would love him with all his lion heart.

"Tino... I know this is against your choices now, but, with time, you will come like this life." Nikolas mumbled, his eyes gazing against the walls of the tent. Tino lifted his head from his cousin's shoulder, his nose runny and red, his cheeks stained with quickly drying tears, making his face itch. Tino focused his eyes on the table, the honeyed wood of the furniture looking beautiful and sturdy, as if it had been made by a fine craftsmen.

"I will embrace it one day, I'm sure... But I am still scared. I always thought I would live out my days in the small hut by the creek, healing the elderly and bandaging the knees of careless children. I did not think I would be in the middle of a Swedish encampment, forced to be the bride of a Viking..." Tino sighed sourly. He was tired, upset, dirty, and wanted nothing more that to sleep for days in the warm confines of the big bed. "

"I have no clue what the Gods have in store for me, but if this is the beginning of my journey, then who am I to fight it...?" Tino sighed out angrily. He felt bested, defeated. He would be married and that was that, Nikolas had told him so. But Nikolas had also told him that he needn't do anything that he didn't want to. Tino had to be married, but no one had told him when, or where. Tino didn't have to completely give himself up to the lions in their den, waiting with hungry jaws and snapping teeth. Tino could go at his own pace, let the lions nibble on his finger, gnaw at his wrist, chew on his arms and shoulders before they consumed his entire body and heart. He could go at his own pace and no one could go against him. He was Damen Lejon. The Lady Lion.

"I'm not saying you have to accept it all now, it took weeks for me to be comfortable with this immediate and sudden change. I'm not asking for you to discard your beliefs and your emotions over night. But please, think about it. Berwald I'm sure already holds strong feelings for you in his heart, and in time you will too." Nikolas assured the younger boy, his eyes finally cracking away at the mask, soft drops of emotion dripping down. Tino rubbed his nose and nodded weakly.

From outside Tino could hear the roaring party outside, the noise drifting over the small and scrawny huts and well over the monstrous mountains. The clinking of clay jugs and golden horns of mead and watered wine, the smells of roasting deer and duck, the sour and musty smell of baking bread all wafted in from the flaps of the tent to settle underneath Tino's nose, making his mouth water.

A least Tino knew the people were kind. They had seemed to welcome their leaders choice for a bride without a second thought, even though Tino was male.* Tino smiled grimly. Well of course, Berwald was a great and powerful man to the tribes, he was the leader, he could damn well do whatever he pleased without any repercussions. If he wanted to marry a man, he could marry a man. But now Tino had a bit of power as well. He would have to ask Nikolas later what the details of a 'Damen Lejon' were, but so far, if it gave him some type of diplomatic power, then he was more than delighted.

It would take a bit more for the sting of the situation to wear off, but in time Tino would heal from the shock and damage and be able to tolerate being married to the man. Tino only hoped Berwald was as kind and gentle as he had appeared to be today. Tino had heard wicked stories, telling that the Swedish vikings raided and pillaged peaceful villages and raped any woman, or even man that they could find. It left Tino's blood run cold with fright. But once again, so far almost everything he had been told of the vikings was a lie. Maybe Nikolas was right, maybe the Barbarians were just like Tino, trying to survive, trying to make what they could out of the rough land and the overbearing sea. Tino shut his eyes from exhaustion, the initial shock of today bearing down hard over his head and shoulders.

Tino sat up and strained his ears to listen the on goings outside the hut. A few seconds later the melodies of a pair of panpipes, woodwind flute, and a collection of harps danced along into the hut with gaily glee. Tino sighed and laid his head back down on the hay stuffed pillow, smelling the sweetness of the straw and the sourness of the flaxen blankets.

He wished he was back home.

He missed his little simple hut that Nikolas, Björt, and him used to all share, all crowed and smashed side by side into the cozy hay loft. He missed the silver fish that jumped and spawned in the river, fat and lazy, they made a perfect catch and an even better meal during the warm summer months. He missed the bonfires during Valborg, and the marriages in spring.* He missed searching for little dwarfs and giant trolls along the tree roots with Björt, making the little babe squeal and laugh with happiness when they came across a bush fattened with blackberries. He missed it all, and he would never get it back.

He was like a wild pony that had been caught, wrangled, and saddled with scratchy rope and a cold iron bit. He hated it. But Nikolas told him he would get used to it. He would learn to be a wife, a mother, and a...A what? Was he a Queen? A princess? A mistress? What were his duties as Damen Lejon? Tino sighed sickly and rolled over on his belly, his mouth in an upset scowl, eyes annoyed.

He would live this destiny, he had no choice, but he would not be entirely happy about it. Until Berwald proved that he really cared, that it was really okay for the Finn to love back without getting hurt, then Tino would be happy. He was scared, frightened. He had never fallen in love, never had a suitor, never had a gentlemen caller. He had no knowledge of love other than the fact that he was slowly feeling inklings of it for Berwald. That stung. Tino was already falling for a man that he barely even knew. Whose to say the Swede even cared about Tino? What if Tino was just a rarity, a trophy, something exotic from a far away land that only had a place in the mans bed? Tino blushed fiercely, willing his heart to stop its maddening drumming.

Tino could distinctly hear the laughter and shouts from the people outside, all happy, drinking and probably congratulating their new leader. Tino shoved his face deeper into the scratchy pillow that smelled like pine shavings and freshly melted snow. Tino inhaled the mildly familiar scent, letting it fill his starved and withered lungs. Whoever this bed belonged to, Tino hoped to the Gods that they didn't mind him sleeping in it. The Finn had just kind of barged in, hopefully he would be forgiven.

Tino's ears picked up the loud and sluggish voice of Mathias, shifting from his natural tongue of Danish to English, to sloppy, barely decipherable Swedish. Tino rolled over to look at Nikolas who had been staring at Tino the entire time, his breathing quite, eyes rolling into their navy colored stormy luster.

"Tino, you've had a long day. I think you should get some more sleep, it will help your headache." Nikolas murmured. He helped Tino shuffle out of his wrinkly tunic and robes, letting Tino untie the belt from his waist and pull off his trousers with stealth, leaving the Finn bare and naked in the frothy waves of cloth. It was too hot to sleep in a chemise anyway, Tino thought wearily, already disliking the warm Swedish nights in the strange land.

Nikolas tucked Tino in like he used to when they were little. When they used to sleep in the cozy and itchy hay loft, listening to the breath of the night wind as it hushed against the trees, and the trickle of the creek shining under the moon. Tino nodded wearily before snuggling against the warm and toasty covers, squishing his toes back and forth in the froth of sheep skins and wooly blankets. At least the Swedish knew how to pack and make a bed Tino thought sourly.

"Tomorrow Berwald is going to show you the meat storage while I'm attending to the wounded soldiers. When you're with him, don't back talk, don't argue, and don't run away crying like a little girl. Try to act like the cute little Finn I know and love." Nikolas smiled softly, teasingly. He lifted up the empty and dirty wooden plates and cups and balanced them in his arms, sitting up from the bed.

"Also, I need you to go into the forest tomorrow and pick some herbs and plants that are needed for the next batch of medicine. I suggest you think over tonight what ingredients you need to obtain to cure Peter..." Nikolas paused and turned to Tino whose body was nestled snugly in the billowy warmth of the blankets. Nikolas smiled softly, his eyes still dull before speaking once more.

"Going into the forest alone is dangerous during these times of war so Berwald has offered to go with you along with some of his men to make sure you come back safely." Nikolas murmured, walking around the small squared hut, blowing out candles as he passed them, the smoke coiling up from the tent to sift out through the little open flat that showed a small glimpse of the northern stars, the only familiar thing about this whole strange and frightening place.

Tino made a scowl and ugly look on his face. He was going to be guarded? Like a little lap dog that couldn't take care of itself? Tino pouted grimly.

"I don't need his help." Tino bit off sourly, turning his body in the covers, hugging his knees to his bare chest. Nikolas chuckle smugly. "Too bad. You need to be protected at all times, you are a liability to the two tribes, we can't have you being captured by the Russian's, Berwald would go into a monstrous rage." Nikolas covered his hands over the last of the candles and blew it out softly, the flame dying with the kiss of his breath. A soft light still filtered in from the cracks of the tarp flaps and the small opening up top, but other than that, the soft and hot summer air caressed Tino's skin, making his eyes slowly drift shut.

"Fine... He can watch me... But I won't like it." Tino grumbled, yawning into a throw of rabbit skin, soft and warm. Nikolas rolled his eyes but softly walked to the flaps of the tents. The sounds of the party slowly faded into the roomy tent, the light from the small bonfire sweltering and dancing against the laughter and chatter of the celebrating people. Today was a good day, their leader had gotten a bride, it was something to be happy about, to be proud about.

Nikolas pulled the flaps back and slowly, hesitantly, turned back to his sleepy cousin who was now nestled into the covers of the blankets. The Norwegian could hear the soft mumbles and mewls of the sleeping boy as his body rocked him back and forth into the land of mist and dreams. Nikolas smiled softly, his eyes fixed on the pale and sweet face of the little Finn. He hoped Tino would embrace his destiny, his responsibilities. The sooner the better for the young lad. He also hoped with cherished courage in his heart that Berwald would take good care of his stubborn and innocent little cousin. Nikolas knew Berwald already loved Tino from the moment the giant of a man first laid eyes on him. Now only time would tell if Tino felt the same...

Stepping back from the hut Nikolas walked over to the washing pales that had collected near the small ponds that dotted the landscape. He placed the dirtied dishes to soak in the warm water before joining the feasting and dancing villagers along the fire. Already people were drunk and giddy, waving clay mugs around in the air, the golden and crimson liquid sloshing from the cups and onto the floor where the dogs would come to lap at the puddles of ale and wine.

Nikolas wrapped his shawl closer around his shoulders before stumbling over to Berwald and Mathias who were both flanked by young and bright eyed soldiers. Mathias's had just finished a gallant war story when his eyes widened with joy and the inklings of lust when he saw Nikolas nearing the edge of the fires. Mathias raised up his drinking horn, decorated with the head of a wolf in gleaming gold and held his arms wide. Nikolas glared stiffly before sitting down next to the drunken Dane on a fallen log. Mathias grinned wildly before smashing his arms around Nikolas's waist, to which the Norwegian rolled his eyes and pushed the Dane's wandering hands away.

"Norge! Norge! Gimmie' a kiss! Hmm? Pwease...I...I...hic...I wanna' have a...k-kwisss..." Mathias giggled like an infant, gripping for Nikolas's arms, making a face similar to a fishes, puckered and clenched. Nikolas pushed him away with ease, knocking the Dane over and onto the floor. Mathias just laughed boisterously, as if it was the funniest thing in the world.

"How's T'no...?"Berwald mumbled softly looking over to Nikolas. Nikolas stared at the light reflecting off of the fire from Berwald's spectacles and gave a reassuring smile.

"He'll be fine, just a bit shaken up. Give him some time and he'll sober up to the idea." Nikolas mumbled to the leader of the Swedes. The man frowned but nodded softly, clenching his hands between his knees, his eyes deep in thought.

"Oh heeeyyyy! There's a lil' snake down here! Hey'ya lille slange! Aw...he's just a lil' fella..."* Mathias's sloshed voice sputtered against the cracking of the fire. His hands splashed against the scraggly grass of the small clearing before his numbing fingers grabbed the body of a small and harmless little snake.

" 'S he st'll mad at meh?" Berwald mumbled out sadly, his hands clutched to his drinking horn, the shape of a lions head etched into the horns fragile body, the lions teeth bared and sharp.

"Lille slange! Lille slange! Aw...Look Norge, hes...hic...climb'n up mah arm!" Mathias giggled, his legs swinging back and forth against the dusty body of the log.

"Yes he's still mad. But moreover he's just scared. This is new to him, he's never been away from home, and he's never had his hand sought after by a man nor woman before. Give him time to accept you, let him know that you really love, then he will allow his true feelings for you to surface." Nikolas said, gazing into the rippling and coursing fire, the flames hungrily biting into the pine tree limbs and dried hay.

"Aw, he's climb-climb'n up to mahhh face! He-he wantsss ah kwiss!" Mathias made a puckered noise with his lips as he kicked his feet happily up and down. "Norge never gives me kwisses...maybe this'll this'll make 'em jealous!" Mathias cackled, his speech slurred beyond repair.

Berwald sighed and stood up, handing his drinking horn to a soldier sitting next to him, he shuffled from the small little constructed seats of log stumps and smoothed down rocks. Berwald shifted and trudged out of the little clearing of men before turning back to the golden glow of the fire.

All of the sudden a wail of pain was heard and Mathias was kicking his feet up in the air wildly, crying like a drunken baby. He scuffled around on the ground a few seconds, clutching his mouth with his shaking hands, a bit of blood dripping down. When he finally calmed himself enough to stop yelling, he sat up windily and pulled his hands from his mouth. A long thin strip of blood curled from his lip to clot under his chin.

"The lil' bastard bit me!" He cried out, clinging to Nikolas's tunics. Nikolas sighed into the heated air with annoyance before standing up and dragging the Dane up with him. The blubbering viking wrapped his arms around Nikolas for support, still heavily intoxicated and whining about the stupid snake that had bitten him. Nikolas pushed the Dane out of the clearing and regrettably helped him get his footing, muttering that he would help make a poultice for the bite later.

"Th'nk I'll go ta' b'd now..." Berwald mumbled tiredly, turning to Nikolas, dark circles already underneath the Swede's greenish eyes. The Norwegian nodded and everyone bowed or mumbled a good night to the tribe leader as he walked back to his tent, Nikolas leading a sluggish Mathias with him to his own tent.

Walking back to his own tent that he shared with the perverted and obnoxious Danish man, a smug thought wedged into Nikolas's brain, making the Norwegian smile as he pushed open the flaps of the monstrously large tent that they lived in.

Perhaps Nikolas should have warned Tino that the tent he had so cozily run into was actually the temporary tent of the giant Swedish leader. Perhaps Nikolas should have also warned Tino to not sleep naked in said tent. Nikolas smiled smugly, acting as a crutch for the immobile Dane as he limped and staggered into the spacious hut they both shared together. Perhaps Nikolas should have warned Tino. But he hadn't. What's done was Done. Nikolas smiled sinisterly. Oh it was going to be a long night for the little Finn, a long night indeed.

...

Tino had been sleeping soundly in the warm and arid bed of the tent, his muscles relaxed and his cheeks snuggled into the warm and cuddly blankets of the bed. He felt safe, secure, relaxed and-Stomp!-What the perkele was that?* Tino's body stiffened as he clutched the blankets closer to his warm and bare body. His eyes widened and his breath quickened. He had heard a noise just outside his tent, like someone was standing by the leather flaps, dangerously close to opening them. Tino felt this breath come out in spurts of hot air, his eyes as wide as a deer caught in a hunters trap, blood running cold.

"Hnn..."

Tino froze. He willed is body to stay still and his lungs to calm down their hunger for air. He shut his eyes tight and opened his lips, dry and rough, the air being sucked out right from his lungs.

"W-whose there?" Tino mumbled out weakly into the tangible and frighteningly dark space of the tent.

"'S meh...Berwald." Berwald's tired and guttered voice flew over Tino's ears, making the hair on the Finn's neck stand up. Tino's breath hitched in his throat and he wrapped the covers tighter against his body. Berwald? What could the giant want with the Finn this late at night? Then Tino's mind came to a frighting conclusion, it shattered into a million pieces and made his mind halt.

What if Berwald wanted to bed Tino? He was to be his wife after all! Tino wouldn't put it past the viking, he knew Berwald was strong and capable of forcing the Finn down and into the bed wit hone arm tied behind his monstrous back. Tino felt a long thin watered down tear slide down his face. No... He didn't want to be raped... No...He didn't want to be put through such pain and humiliation. The girls of his village had told him it hurt, that it teared away the flesh and sometimes made you bleed. Tino didn't want that! Not like this!

"Wh-What do you want?" Tino's voice was like acid, his eyes scared and wide. His hands gripped wildly at the blankets, wrapping them so tight against his body that they reminded him of a large and carnivorous snake suffocating its prey.

"Sl'p..." Berwald mumbled tiredly. Tino could hear the shuffling noise from the front of the bed as Berwald disrobed himself of his cloak and tunic shirt, leaving him in his trousers and soft leather boots. There was enough light streaming in from the ceiling flap from the stars that Tino could make out the ridges and muscular bumps of the Swede's chest, making him look like a jungle cat at night, stalking low to the ground with taunt muscles against the light of the moon. Tino shivered and rolled over on his side, facing the left of the bed, inching as far as he could away from the Swede. Well, at least he hadn't come to take Tino's virginity, at least not yet.

"Wh-Why are you sleeping in here?" Tino squeaked out, his voice losing its anger as he heard the unmistakable hinge and clink from a belt buckle being unlatched and thrown to the dirt and hay covered floor. Tino jumped slightly when he felt the giant of a man sit on the bed, the huge cot creaking under his strong and powerful weight.

" 'S mah bed..." The Swede muttered in his guttered voice.

Tino's face grew pale upon realization that he had accidentally sought refuge in the leaders tent without even knowing it! He smashed his face into a hay filled pillow and silently screamed. Oh this was not good, not good!

Berwald had just pulled off his boots, his movements weary and a bit sluggish due to all the hard mead he had been drinking. He thought the liquor would help to sooth his depression. Normally he didn't drink, but ever since Peter had gotten sick, the alcohol was the only thing to numb his sorrows and pain. After today...When Tino had so flat out rejected him, well, it just gave the Swede another reason to gulp down a huge tankard of ale and spiced wine until he had absolutely no feeling in his head. Berwald sighed heavily before sliding off his trousers and slipping into the already warm covers of his bed. His mind ached as if a patch of siky thistles had taken root in his head. Oh he would never drink again...

Tino was having an absolute panic attack. As soon as the hulking body of the Swede had slipped into the covers of the bed, naked mind you, Tino had set his body into a scrunched up little ball, biting his lip and shutting his eyes tight, begging with himself not to make a sound. He wouldn't even breath, let along think, for fear of even his thoughts being too loud in the thick silence.

A few seconds passed before the bed covers twitched and slid and Berwald had faced his body to the left, looking at the bare and smooth back of the little Finn who was clutching the edged of the bed like there was a terrifying hurricane present in the tent. Berwald frowned, bringing his hand to lightly touch Tino's stiff and hot shoulders, the smooth skin looking as if it was the color of the moon on a clear night.

Tino flinched as soon as he felt cool and nimble fingers slide against his skin. He made a sound similar to a small yelp, digging his head downward till it was hunched against his arms. Berwald frowned.

"T'no..."

No answer.

"T'no... I'm not gonna' h'rt yoo..."

The covers shifted slightly, the tension visibly melting away from the Finn's body mildly, like a kettle on the fire steaming against the coals, the water slowly sifting upward, not fast, but not slow. Cautiously easing upward, like the tension from his taunt and nerve wracked little body.

"You...won't?" Tino asked, his voice shaking. He was afraid of the answer he would receive. Berwald sighed and brought his fingers down again on the soft and warm flesh of the boy. Tino hissed like he was in pain.

"T'no...Pl'se look at meh..." Berwald grumbled pleadingly, nudging the Finn's body closer. Tino cried like a timid little kitten before doing as he was told, slowly shifting on his back and to his side once more to face the tired and worn gaze of the viking man.

Enough blanket had slipped off that chiseled chest to give Tino more of an eyeful of the powerfully built man in the crisp and warm moonlit tent. Tino shivered involuntarily. Damn the Swedish mans body.

"I'll do wh't ya ask'd..." Berwald mumbled, his glaring sea green eyes pinning Tino down on the spot, like a hunting hound standing before a timid fox, right before the dogs jaws snapped shut over the foxes neck.

"Wh-what do you mean?" Tino whispered out, begging himself to look at the man with any ounce of courage or stubbornness. His timid violet eyes met those sharp and crystalline river stone orbs and he felt his stomach boil and hum with unwanted warmth.

"I'll pr've ta' yoo th't I l've ya..."

Tino blinked rapidly, his mouth wide open, his fingers letting lose their death grip on the padding of blankets.

"Ev'ry day I'll ask ya' ta m'rry meh unt'l ya acc'pt..." Berwald mumbled quietly, rolling his head up so that his hulking body was supported by his elbows. Tino inched his chin out from under the blankets, his legs criss-crossed and brought up to his chest, still very aware that he was naked in a bed with a very bare, and very terrifying looking viking.

"I'll sh'w ya' how much ya m'an ta me..." Berwald downcast his eyes to glare down at the dark shapes that made the woolen blankets on the bed, his glasses having already been taken off and put on the small lowly set table for safety. Tino starred in shock before laughing nervously.

"You...You talk as if you already love me!" He cried out with disbelief and stubbornness. Berwald grunted, his eyes low and serious, meeting Tino's dead on. Both eyes simply reflected back at one another, the warm brush of wind rustling the flaps, the crackling of the fire outside, somewhere in the trees huddling near the tent and owl hooted. Tino swallowed thickly in the heavy and tangible silence, feeling it ease into his mind with tension.

"I do l've ya..." Berwald mumbled, his cheeks growing darker in the poorly lit room. Tino craned his neck back, his breath halting deep in his throat, like a trapped creature, scared and unprotected.

"But you have only just met me!" Tino cried out, sitting up against the scratchy hay of the bed. Berwald blinked slowly, sternly, still starring Tino down.

"Nej. Nikolas has t'ld meh abo't yoo for a long t'me now..."* Berwald looked down at the bedding that was humming with body warmth and straining with the pressure of the two bodies awkwardly nestled in the confines of the skins and cloth.

"He t'ld meh of yer hair...L'ke a doves... Yer eyes, l'ke mornin' glories... N' yer sweet n' k'nd t'mp'rment... I fell in l've w'th ya before I even met ya..." Berwald mumbled out, his shoulders shrugging, his chest rising and flattening with every forced breath, doing his best to sneak a few whiffs of air filled with the Finn's sweet scent.

"Really...?" Tino asked softly, suddenly ashamed about how he had been acting during this entire time. Berwald had saved him from inevitably being torn to shreds by hoards of Russian soldiers... The least the Finn could do would be to act a little thankful. Even if he had brought him here against his will...

"Hnn..." Berwald nodded stiffly before sinking back into the covers and nudged himself closer to Tino.

"B'g day ahead... Get s'me sleep..." Berwald rumbled low in his throat, sighing into the musty bedding. He placed one arm underneath the pillow and the next near his side, doing his best to give Tino as much room as he could. He really did not want to frighten the sheepish little boy anymore than he had already. He hated the look in the boys eyes when he was scared, it absolutely tore Berwald's heart in two.

Tino bit his lip, his body cocooned in a mass of wrapping's, his fingers twirling his baby soft hair in his shaking fingers. Berwald had already fallen in love with him? Tino chewed his lip furiously, his heart beating like a freshly tuned drum, his feet twitching back and forth out of habit. Tino sighed with frustration before he rolled on his back and wedged himself just a bit closer to the Swede. Berwald didn't stir. Tino nibbled on his bottom lip before opening his mouth to speak before closing it again when he thought better of it. Tino was about to sigh out into the air with frustration when Berwald's heavy voice seeped in through the air. Tino froze.

"T'no... Can I h'ld ya?" Berwald mumbled, his eyes scanning over against the little body of the Finn. Tino squeaked like a small mouse caught under the mercy of a broom stick's deadly stroke.

Berwald's eyes slid shut before he rolled onto his back and breathed out through his mouth with nervousness.

"Ah...N'ver m'nd..." he mumbled after a second thought, his voice slowly sinking into a quite whisper of uneasiness and crushed hope. Tino furrowed his brow with confusion. Could he let the viking hold him in his arms? The man sounded so deflated and sad when Tino had squeaked out with , just a bit of appeasement wouldn't do any harm? Tino made small sound of defeat before he, shutting his eyes tight, quickly swayed over to the motionless giant, and planted his body flush against his side. Thankfully the wrappings of a blanket hooked against Tino's waist, discouraging the contact of flesh against flesh. Tino wrapped his arms around himself, his body shaking, teeth chattering, but not from the cold.

Berwald smiled ever so softly before he quietly and gently placed his left arm against Tino's body, bringing him closer, but still not as close to embarrass or frighten the Finn away. Tino, his eyes still painfully shut tight, just sat their stiffly, begging for the onslaught of sleep to strike him out cold. But it was a soft and slightly hopeful voice that made Tino stingily awake.

"T'no...Will ya' be m'w'fe...?" Berwald mumbled into the thick air, smelling the sweet and vibrant scent of the Finn. Tino smelled amazingly like drying blue berries, baked fresh in a sweet honey cake, or like the cool grass between your toes on the first night of solstice.

Tino's heart shook and vibrated against his rib cage, making a heated noise that the boy could hear against his ears. His pulse was thick and hot in his throat. The Finn let out a tiny gasp at the question, his body shaking slightly from nervousness.

"No..." Tino said, the inkling of regret in his voice. One night of innocent hugging was not going to entirely convince the Finn that the giant really loved him. Not in the slightest.

Berwald sighed out but nodded, his chin grazing slightly against the top of the Finn's head. Berwald looked up at the stars above, the vibrant white against the dark sapphire sky made his breath quiet and his heart sleep.

"G'd n'ght T'no..." Berwald mumbled. Good night my Wife...

"...Good night...Berwald..." Tino voiced out weakly. Good night my Barbarian.

...

I'm sorry if I rushed, or if I made Tino too OOC, or made his emotions too unrealistic. I really want Tino to realize that he has feelings for Berwald though! I hope you liked this chapter so far! Review are always welcome.

Authors Notes:

\- "It was hot boiled water that had been doused with honey and a few chunky bits of white willow bark and dried camomile buds, Tino's favorite.*" -Chamomile and white willow bark, when mixed correctly, provide a natural medicine to help keep headaches down.

-""It's called limpa, a Swedish bread that was baked just today for the wedding."*" - "Limpa" is a dark Swedish bread that is moist and made with orange peels or flavoring and molasses.

-"Tino growled out, chewing lazily on some feverfew leaves, trying to ward off the migraine in his head.*" - "Feverfew" is a leaf that is used to help keep down fevers and migraines.

-"They had seemed to welcome their leaders choice for a bride without a second thought, even though Tino was male.*" - Homosexuality wasn't common in Viking society, but it did exist. Some of the Norse Gods participated in homosexual acts, as well as becoming transgenderd such as when Loki turned into a female horse and was impregnated by a stallion to give birth to Odins horse Sleipnir. In Viking society, if you were a man and were gay, it was accepted as long as you had a good bought of offspring as well to take your place as your heir. Also, if you were to be the 'top' in the relationship, you would hold higher status than if you were on the bottom, as the bottom was most of the time seen as weak, or a whorish person. Haha Tino's a whore.

-"He missed the bonfires during Valborg, and the marriages in spring.*" -"Valborg" Is basically an evening festival in some parts of Finland and Sweden where winter leaves are burned for the signaling of summer.

-""Oh heeeyyyy! There's a lil' snake down here! Hey'ya lille slange! Aw...he's just a lil' fella..."*" - "lille slange" means, 'little snake' in Danish.

-"He felt safe, secure, relaxed and-Stomp!-What the perkele was that?*" -"Perkele" means "Fuck" in Finnish.

-""Nej. Nikolas has t'ld meh abo't yoo for a long t'me now..."*"- "Nej" means "No" in Swedish.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh Tino, I feel so bad for youuuuu! *laughs maniacally*
> 
> Authors Note:
> 
> I know I know, not many of Y'all like "manly Tino' but seriously, Finland kicked the Soviet Unions ass in WWII, I think Tino deserves a little bit of manly attitude. But don't worry, now that he's met Berwald he'll resume to his cutesy (yet manly) little self. 3 Sorry this chapter is so damn heavy and scary guys. Next ones will be better, I promise 3
> 
> -"He had to live on and wait out the night when the Dane's left the shores of his homeland."- The Danes have invaded Finland twice, in 1191 and in 1202, though I have no real time frame of when this story takes place, I'm not basing this on any historical records 3
> 
> -"The Danes had docked near the ports along Helsinki, leaving barely an hours time for the Finn's to get ready for battle."-Helsinki is the capital of Finland
> 
> -"Now it seemed the battle was over, as Tino witnessed the hated vibrant black of the ravened flag whip-lashing across the once peaceful sky of Finland."- The Raven banner is very famous in Viking lore, but there are speculations as to which tribes used it and what it really meant. Basically it is a spherical banner with ringlets of black with a soaring raven on it to represent Odin's ravens.
> 
> -"Hey! This ones under my protection! He's to be a peace offering for the Leader of the Norther Lions Tribe! Anyone that touches him picks a fight with me and the Swedes!"-Berwald looks like a lion. 'nuff said.
> 
> -""Let go of me! Perkele!" Tino twisted and fought, trying to wriggle out of Mathias's strong grip."- Perkele= Finnish swear word like 'fuck'


End file.
